


One and One and One Makes Three

by lzclotho



Series: We Three [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Swingtown
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Consensual Sex, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fellatio, Fingering, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Fucking, Missionary Position, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Sex Swing, Sexual Roleplay, Strap-Ons, Swingers, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism, make that two, spanking (mild)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lzclotho/pseuds/lzclotho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Trina Decker have added Emma Swan, bartender, to their open marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sexy morning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this tumblr gifset](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/63897) by helenastacie. 



> Timeline: Pre-Swingtown series events. Ignore the illogic of it and enjoy. This is little more than the author's excuse for a bisexual smut fest imagining Lana (Trina) and Jen (Emma) in their respective roles. If it develops a plot, honestly it wasn't planned. Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma wakes up Trina in the morning; Tom joins them toward the end.

Tying off the towel around her hips, Emma Swan shook her blond head with a wide smile as her soaked hair slapped heavily against her back. The morning pool laps had been invigorating. She patted dry her hair with one hand as she entered the sliding glass doors and walked to the wide counter separating the living space from the spacious kitchen. The aromas of bacon and eggs, and… “Oh my god, apple pancakes! ” she identified the smell at the same time she spotted Tom Decker flipping them on the griddle.

The air conditioning nipped at her mostly bare skin in the borrowed red string bikini. She leaned on her elbows on the counter across from sandy blond Tom grinning next to the stainless steel of his spatula.

“I told you,” he said, “we have every delight in this house.”

She reached toward the skillet, her eyes meeting his. Both of them smirked as she sent her hand sideways to the wooden bowl of freshly rinsed grapes.

Popping a grape in her mouth, Emma eyed the beautiful pancakes he had just flipped on the skillet. They were perfectly golden brown. God, it made Emma immediately see equally golden skin in her mind’s eye. Her mouth watered with the desire to kiss it, touch it, taste it…

When she refocused she found Tom’s gaze still riveted to hers.

“If you don’t linger too long,” he said, drawing down the skillet heat, “you can wake her up.”

Emma leaned further across the counter and caught Tom’s lips in a quick kiss. It was, she realized, unnecessary, but it made this special to her. She was enjoying the warm delight of being welcomed so thoroughly. She certainly felt loved as heat began to coalesce in her body.

She chuckled and hurried to the bedroom.

The east-facing window here opened only onto the pool patio, so Emma pulled open one curtain, bringing the touch of morning’s light to the king-sized bed and its remaining occupant.

“Trina,” Emma called, letting her voice roll low and soft through the room as she approached the bed.

The Latina partially under a sheet, wearing a spaghetti strap silk negligee, stretched slowly, luxuriating in the laziness of their Sunday morning. Emma sat on the bed beside her, pulling back the sheet further to gaze upon the lush curves.

“Morning?” Trina’s voice barely managed the syllables and Emma wriggled a little with delight as she skimmed her open palm over the satin skin of a muscular golden thigh.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, her fingers widening as she neared Trina’s hip and the warmth of the other woman’s center.

She eased her body against Trina’s and claimed dark lips in a kiss that deepened slowly. Trina laughed low when Emma pulled back and nipped at her jaw. “You’re learning all his tricks, dear.”

“I’m learning what you like,” Emma replied, pleased by the acknowledgement of her growing skills. She burred her voice and breath along the tendon in Trina’s throat and followed it up to the sensitive spot behind the woman’s ear. A breast arched into her chest, the hard nipple evident even through the silk. Returning her mouth to Trina’s, Emma slid two fingers in and out of the woman’s center as they continued to trade open-mouthed kisses.

With Trina’s inner muscles milking her fingers, Emma lifted up and parted her towel to insert one thigh between Trina's. Trina bent her knee against Emma’s center and she rocked a little into the pressure of it while adding rotation to her own fingers thrusting in and out.

Trina’s body arched, and Emma could not longer reach her panting mouth. She pulled aside the silk negligee and latched onto a breast, plying her teeth on the engorged nipple. Fingers slid into her hair and gripped in rhythmic pleasure as more wetness soaked Emma’s fingers below. Trina gave a short cry. Emma grinned against into the flesh in her mouth, eager for more cues to increasing their mutual pleasure.

When Trina abandoned her hair and instead wrapped her arms around Emma’s back, Emma knew the time for teasing was rapidly becoming a need for release.

She added a third finger, and used her knee to add more pressure. Feeling her own fluids bathing Trina’s thigh, Emma switched to chewing and sucking on the previously unattended breast. Trina’s gasp and cry again rewarded her attentiveness.

Now Trina had grasped Emma’s ass, massaging the cheeks. Emma sighed as she felt the caress now of a third hand, Tom’s, on the back of her thigh. Her cunt twitched with the desire born of knowing what could be coming next. She lifted a little off Trina’s thigh and briefly disengaged from Trina’s kiss. Looking deep into dark brown eyes, Emma mirrored the woman’s smile. Tom’s hand slid to Emma’s inner thigh.

She lowered her chest against Trina’s, lifting her ass a little and closed her eyes at the explosion of different sensations everywhere: her breasts pillowing against Trina’s, the woman’s hands, light and supple on her back, and the fluttering of folds around her own fingers while her own center welcomed Tom’s fingers, one curling inward and the other pressing deliciously against her clit. His lightly furred chest rubbed against her ass.

Lifting her upper body again, she felt him press to her back. Looking down she met Trina’s eyes watching them both. Tom’s free hand cupped her cheek and turned her face to his for a kiss. Trina’s hands lifted to Emma’s breasts, pulling aside the bikini top to pluck and squeeze Emma’s nipples. Jolts of pleasure shot directly to her groin, soaking Tom’s buried finger.

Tom’s mouth swallowed the moans erupting from Emma’s throat. She curled her two fingers inside Trina and searched for that spot while she rubbed her thumb on the side of the woman’s fully hardened clit.

When Tom’s finger found her magic spot, Emma heard Trina’s cry join hers. 

“Oh, fuck!” Emma gasped. Beneath her, Trina shuddered. Tom anchored as her own shudders overtook her.

She sagged, spent, muscles quaking in her thighs and stomach, and lowered herself half on and half off Trina, her head nearly in the headboard as she panted to calm herself.

The woman nibbled Emma’s throat and caused a dozen little aftershocks. Emma groaned again with each tremor. Trina’s chuckles warmed the skin directly over her thudding heart.

A dopey grin shaped Emma’s lips as she felt Tom now slide onto the bed, spooning her back. She watched Tom and Trina kiss past her ribcage and then felt his mustached lips brush against the back of her upper arm.

“So,” he said, the least breathless of the three of them. “Is anyone interested in my pancake breakfast?”

Trina chuckled and pulled Emma into her body. “Was that what you were sent in here to do?”

“Maybe.” Emma’s murmur came out sheepishly against Trina’s collarbone.

Tom and Trina laughed, then dragged her from their bed.

###

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want to read more adventures for Tom, Trina, and Emma? Let me know in the comments.


	2. Swing time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina, Tom and Emma have a good time on the playroom sex swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT. Emma takes both Tom's cock and then Trina's strap-on for a thorough fucking. There's blindfolding, teasing, tonguing, fingering and fucking. Trina also becomes the center of a delicious finger-and-fuck F/F/M sandwich.

Emma reclined on the pool lounger, eyes hidden behind big sunglasses, wet blonde hair braided and resting across her shoulder. She was only half-asleep, enjoying the noises and taking occasional peeks at Tom and Trina making out in the shallow end of their pool. She exhaled feeling something she might just call contentment.

The three of them didn’t have sex *all* the time. Tom worked as a pilot running commuter routes and then took the occasional vacationing pilot’s transcontinental route for several days in a row. Trina stayed at their home, part-time community activist, and sometimes just enjoying the fact that she no longer had to work the same crazy hours. Over the last months, Emma had learned Tom and Trina met a few years ago when Trina worked as a stewardess for the same airline. When they became serious, company policy dictated that one of them had to go. Tom had married Trina, mostly because he couldn’t imagine coming home to anyone else who understood him as well. But the health plan, he’d laughed as he told the story, was worth it, too.

She hadn’t really understood the ‘woman to come home to’ part at first, in light of the Deckers’ open marriage arrangement. Neither of them turned a blind eye when it came to noticing attractive people. Emma knew this firsthand since it was Tom who had first approached her at the dance lounge where she worked as a bartender and they were regular customers, often dancing with other singles and couples. Adventure though was of key importance to both of them. After all, they had both gone into the travel industry for exactly that opportunity: to see and experience new things as often as possible.

This desire for changes of scenery extended to their sexual desires as well. Neither had other family, at least that they communicated with. Tom’s parents were dead. Trina’s… Well, Trina had left home already declared ‘a disappointment’ and told not to come back. “Unless I straightened up and flew right,” Trina had recounted to Emma one night when Tom was out. Emma had asked while they lay curled together in bed after some wonderful comfort sex.

Emma appreciated Trina’s openness, having not had that a lot in her life so far. She had run away from her last foster home not because of her sexuality, but because it just was going nowhere. She’d taken up with Neal for the adventure. Jail had been maturing, probably especially because she’d had to give up her baby. But the one-night stands had remained; she wasn’t into ‘bonding’, she’d told them almost immediately.

Both of them had accepted that, so for the first couple months Emma only joined them after closing time at two a.m. on Sunday mornings. She usually stayed long enough to see Tom dress and leave for his Monday afternoon flight time. The first time Trina asked her to stay was during one of Tom’s transcontinental stints.

_“He’ll be gone for three days,” Trina had said, looking a little lost into her coffee mug._

Emma had stayed for the entire three days. They’d even gone to Trina’s salon for a mani-pedi as though they were only suburbanite friends.

Those first two months, Emma continued to live in her own scrappy little apartment. When they wanted to play, Tom and Trina would leave an extra large tip with a note “light’s on for you.”

About the seventh or eighth time, Emma had emerged from closing up at the bar to find Tom and Trina leaning against their car in the parking lot. Her yellow VW Beetle was the only other car. Tom had complimented her on the car, and asked her if she could leave it here. They’d like to take her home.

The threesome had moved their activities from the basement playroom to the master bedroom that weekend. Tom had several days off from work and their mutual playtime stretched until Wednesday. Emma smiled at the memory of waking the first morning after to find both of them between her thighs.

“I think Emma's become sun-addled, Tom,” Trina said. Emma opened her eyes to see the woman looking down at her with her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s time to take her back inside,” the Latina added with a wink when she found Emma’s eyes finally opened.

Water still beaded on both their bodies. Emma licked her lips before pulling them into a dopey grin as she considered the rather pleasurable pastime of kissing every inch of both of them dry. At the thought, her center became wet and heated. She tightened her thighs together to appease herself with a little pressure.

Tom chuckled, obviously aware of the move. Emma's belly muscles tightened pleasantly at the sound. Trina’s cool, lotioned hands slid up her feet, calves, and thighs. “Definitely time to come inside. Or you’ll burn,” Trina coaxed when Emma looked down to see the woman’s fingers sliding to the side tie of her bikini bottom.

Taking Tom’s offered hand, Emma stood. Trina led the way downstairs to the playroom. Emma considered the many areas set up when Tom flipped on the wall switch. A traveling trunk had been decorated as a pirate’s treasure chest and she knew it was filled with roleplaying costumes suitable for many types of scenarios. A set of padded leather cuffs hung from hooks on the far wall. The sex sling hung from four points in the ceiling. Pillows and cushions and sheets of satin, silk, and even simple cotton made little love nests all over the rest of the floor.

She, Trina, and Tom, had done most things in this room at least once.

Tom stepped up behind Emma and wrapped his arms around her torso, pressing himself into her back. His damp skin was a cool counterpoint to her sun-heated body and she sighed into the contact while he slid her out of her bikini top. Trina lowered to her knees, skimming Emma’s belly with kisses while untying and removing her bikini bottom.

She lifted one arm around Tom’s head pulling his mouth to hers for kisses. Her other hand dropped onto Trina’s head, sifting through the dark brown locks as the woman used her fingers to press apart Emma’s thighs. The woman tongued her labia before giving thorough lingual attention to Emma’s clit.

When her knees began to buckle, Emma let Tom pick her up. He laid her on the swing and Emma spread her legs into the corner loops. Though only partially reclining, her feet couldn’t touch the floor. Tom stood at her head and his hands wrapped around hers on the ropes. She tipped her head back and welcomed his kisses. She arched her body into Trina’s returning tongue on her skin. The woman was moaning in delight about the flavor of sweat on her body and the words sent Emma’s arousal even higher. Tom’s hardened cock rubbed her back as Trina flattened her tongue against Emma’s clit.

“More,” Emma said, feeling her groin squeeze and then Trina’s tongue spreading her copious fluids over her folds.

Tom moved to the side where Emma could pull down his swimming trunks and grasp his length. He untied a silk scarf from the rope above her head.

“You good?” he asked, indicating the scarf. Emma considered the prospect of the blindfold. Tom had used his hands to cover her eyes before, as had Trina. Then Trina was at her other side, and Emma knew why they wanted to try a blindfold. Trina wore a leather harness and a black dildo; both of them wanted their hands free to fuck her.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “I want this. I want both of you.”

Trina reached across Emma’s body and her hand joined Emma’s around Tom’s girth. With firm strokes she unrolled a condom down his cock. Emma shivered in anticipation.

Tom tied off the scarf, kissing her cheek before he moved away. Emma reached out with her senses, trying to track him. Trina, however, was enjoying making Emma writhe with sensation as she touched and stroked and nipped and kissed in seemingly random patterns up and down Emma’s body.

Then she felt Tom’s hands on her ankles, his mustached mouth planting kisses on her inner calves. Then his tongue danced in the indentation at the back of her knee before he pressed to open her thighs wider and she felt his hairy chest slide upward over her inner thighs and heated center.

Trina kissed Emma’s cheek, just below the scarf and teased her right nipple with circular strokes and deft twists. Emma’s arching, twisting body set the swing in gentle motion.

Tom’s hands parted Emma’s folds, his fingertips dabbled in the wetness, and then one slipped inside. Emma threw her head back and moaned as she felt the fingertip wiggle as though it were magnified ten times. She smelled her own arousal as well as felt the wetness of it between his circling thumb and her clit. “Oh, fuck.”

Trina’s mouth descended over hers, fingers still nimbly pulling on Emma’s nipple, and Emma tried to ground herself in the sensations and the taste. Trina tasted a lot like her personality: airy, fresh and spicy. Emma was writhing like crazy already and Tom wasn’t even inside her yet.

Then he backed away. Emma gasped when instead Trina’s fingers slipped inside. Having much narrower fingers, Emma thought she felt three fingers instead of Tom’s two. The tips curled against Emma’s inside walls and she felt almost like she she was blossoming open, her muscles clenching and unclenching, loosening her. “Oh, god, yes.”

The back of Tom’s hand bumped her inner thigh and Emma realized he was likely holding the condom in place at the base of his cock, because the latex-bubble tip and the head pressed against her opening as Trina’s fingers slid free.

Emma reset her hands around the ropes and wriggled. Trina bent close and whispered hotly in her ear. “I’m going to guide him inside you.” And then she did. the head slipped in, rubbing against the inner muscles with a filling pressure. Tom’s chest hair slid softly against her breasts, setting her body tingling. He kissed and sucked at her collarbone while he started only tiny movements, but the freedom of the swing rocked her back onto his cock after each slight push of his hips.

She opened her eyes and wished she could see if Tom and Trina were kissing open-mouthed, tongues swirling, over her body, even as they brought her pleasure. But the blindfold fulfilled its purpose and all she could do was concentrate on the sensations, the scents, and the sounds. She heard Tom breathing more rapidly. Trina was whispering, “harder,” in between kissing Emma’s abs. Emma lowered one hand from the swing ropes and let it fall to Trina’s back, indulging in the touch, skimming up and down the other woman’s back, until lower she felt the straps of the leather harness. She tugged on it.

“It’s wider than he is,” Trina whispered.

“Fuck me,” Emma replied simply.

Trina chuckled against her lips as she gave her a kiss, twirling her tongue around Emma’s in her mouth. Emma’s body nearly exploded with another seemingly impossible increase in arousal. Heart thudding hard and blood rushing in her ears, she whined with need.

A short moment of adjustment followed. Emma felt Tom pull out and move to Emma’s head again. Somewhere he’d removed the condom, because she felt his uncovered cock, not as slick as either of their sweat-covered skin, catch a little on her shoulder. She grabbed for it, finally catching it in her fingers, and tipped her head back to try and align it with her mouth.

Just as her lips closed around Tom’s spongy head, Emma felt Trina’s hips and hands between her thighs. Trina’s throaty chuckle accompanied her penetration, and Emma bore down a bit on Tom’s cock in her mouth to moan with the pleasure.

The swing’s rocking made it easy for Trina to fuck her without a lot of movement, but frustrating for Emma to try and control some of the depth and angle. She lifted her legs around Trina’s hips and felt the other woman’s hands grab her waist, her thumbs circling on her abs.

Trina bent forward, sliding their breasts together. Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head. It was so perfect; she couldn’t stop writhing on the thickness. Trina’s dildo was definitely wider than Tom’s natural endowment, a little longer, too. Emma was no size queen, but fuck, this reached places she was sure she had never been touched.

“Oh my god, keep doing that,” she panted.

Trina laughed and kissed her ear, sucking at the lobe before pulling away with a slight tug of her teeth. Emma’s groin throbbed and she offered up another cry from her throat.

Tom’s hand cupped her chin and she lifted her face. He lowered his to meet her in a kiss. She tried to suck his tongue into her mouth and finally growled, “Make your wife come all over me,” she demanded.

Trina gasped a moment later, and Emma wished she could see it. Tom’s arm had slipped under Emma’s butt and no doubt he was fingering Trina behind the harnessed dildo.

Emma gave herself over to the thrill of hips slapping into her inner thighs and strong hands holding her legs open. Her ankles fell open from behind Trina’s back. Trina’s breathing sped up and came in shorter bursts as their flesh slapped together, over and over again.

Then Trina pulled out, or fell out, Emma wasn’t sure which. She cried out, “No!” and felt Trina’s head fall against her collarbone. The woman’s breath puffed on the skin, tingling directly to Emma’s still throbbing center. Emma’s muscles rhythmically searched for something to grab onto. Before she could lose the feeling, Trina lifted up and her fingers pressed against Emma’s clit. Then, finally, the dildo was back, seated quickly to the hilt, moving counterpoint to her clenching muscles. The sensation was maddeningly perfect and, inhaling deeply of the sex permeating the air, Emma came.

Fingers untied the scarf and, as it fell to her belly, Emma watched Trina’s beautiful face react to Tom’s thrusts into her from behind. Both their bodies glistened with sweat. She reached out and pulled on Trina’s hips then slid her hands up the other woman’s back to coax her onto Emma’s chest while Tom continued fucking his wife from behind.

She shared Tom’s smile, stroking Trina’s back as the brunette panted between them. Emma squeezed her muscles around Trina’s dildo and rubbed at the straining muscles in the woman’s back. Trina’s eyes widened, then her lids lowered, signaling that Tom had, with that Cheshire grin Emma saw, come inside her. She dropped one hand down to Trina’s center, finding it behind the silicon cock just as Tom pulled out. She wriggled a fingertip, all she could manage at this angle, and set off another orgasm inside the other woman.

It was such a treat to watch Trina’s pleasure overtake her body. Her already dark skin flushed deeper, her brown eyes were almost entirely lost to pitch black pupils, her lips parted around hard pants and her fingers spasmed against Emma’s chest as though they too needed something to grasp. Emma laced their fingers together and felt the shudders as Trina cried out in pleasure and dropped her forehead back against Emma’s collarbone.

Emma kissed her head as Tom kissed Trina’s shoulder and back.

“Now, that,” Emma chuckled as Trina sighed happily. “That was a perfect fuck.”

  
###

_Shall I go on?_


	3. Halloween Display

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina and Tom are hosting a Halloween party and Emma helps them put on an erotic display.

 

“Get a load of you!” Emma stepped out of her room at the knock to find Tom Decker lifting his hands and preening for her in a spicy red polyester suit with tuxedo shirt, ruffles gaily bouncing.

She grabbed the wide lapels of his suit and pressed herself full length against him, assaulting him with her lips. "So hot, Tom," she purred in his ear.

He separated and took in her chosen costume for the evening. "Love the mondo shades," he complimented, "but it's a shame they hide your gorgeous green eyes." His gaze scanned down her pale blue suit and paused, she knew, on the bulge in her pants. "Does Trina know you decided to pack tonight?"

"Fits the role," Emma said with a smile.

The door to the master bedroom further down the hall opened and Emma  and Tom turned to the knee-buckling sight of Trina stepping out in a sleek form-fitted sailor-style blue and white skirt and top. The scupper hat was pinned jauntily to sleekly styled ebony hair specially waved and held with hairspray for the occasion. Emma's whistle melded with Tom's in nearly perfect low-pitch harmony. "Fancy a night on the town, sailor?" Tom asked.

"I'm interested in a night inside, Mr. Candy Man. You got something sweet for me?"

"Always rocking the sweet stuff, my salty wench," Tom bantered back. Emma laughed. They flirted so comfortably. What would be cheesy between any other two people felt playful and sincere whenever Tom and Trina said it.

Trina stepped up to Emma and clung to her right arm, sliding a hand down her pale blue wide lapel suit. She pressed into Emma from hips to breasts and smirked as Emma felt her strap on squeezed between their bodies; no way was Trina missing its presence. She’d chosen the big one for tonight. Trina’s words confirmed it. "So, Bennie wants to get the jets going tonight?"

"Engine's revved and ready," Emma assured.

“Now that it’s sundown, and the kiddies are properly sugared, we’ve got our party plans. You still cool with playing at the party tonight?” Tom asked Emma.

Emma had never considered herself an exhibitionist, but she had been part of Trina and Tom’s relationship now for more than five months, and she had definitely developed a healthy voyeurism. She had always thought Trina with Tom was a gorgeous sight. That they encouraged her to share in that connection made her feel amazing.

“We don’t have anyone coming tonight who won’t take no for an answer, but you feel uncomfortable, you know you can change things with a word, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma replied. “Red stops everything, Yellow is be careful, Green is good.”

“Always,” Trina agreed with a nod, pulling off Emma’s glasses and kissing her nose, right between her green eyes.

Emma took back her glasses and stepped back, letting Tom pull Trina into his shoulder as she followed out to the main room of the house. Trina pulled a trifold of wood panels across the hallway entrance to their rooms. While everyone had the run of most of the house, the pool and deck, the playroom downstairs, their bedrooms would be off-limits to their guests. Even Tom and Trina didn’t bring anyone back to their room during an open party night.

Only Tom or Trina would answer the door during the evening. No one entered that they didn’t know personally, and after a certain time, you just didn’t get in. Emma had only attended one other open party in the last six months, and she had been content to sit on the sofa nibbling snacks, and occasionally Trina’s or Tom’s lips, between dances to the songs on the hi-fi. Most of the other guests had gone home by the time Tom had his hands down Emma’s pants and Trina was creating a deep purple hickey on her collarbone and they’d all made out on the couch.

Tonight though, she felt a confidence in her connection with Tom and Trina that hadn’t fully solidified then. It explained the fact that, while she was watching tonight as Tom and Trina greeted and then mingled with their other guests with hugs and kisses, all she felt was a twitch in her fingers to touch, not clutch.

Emma was seated having a glass of wine with cheese and crackers and chatting with a gay male couple when Trina came over and settled onto her lap. She tucked her free arm around Trina’s waist, sliding between the cloth and stroking the heated bare skin of her waist.

“Come dance with me, Bennie,” Trina said in a gorgeously affected Brooklyn accent. “I got a mind to climb the mast.”

Chuckling, Emma downed the last of her wine, clearing her palette. She turned to accept Trina’s mouth on hers, sucking on the tongue that quickly sought out hers. Trina was already quivering with need and Emma released Trina’s mouth to make her excuses. “Enjoy yourselves,” she said to the two men. “Happy Halloween.”

“You, too,” the darker of the couple said. “See you.”

Trina lifted herself from Emma’s lap and then grabbed her hands, pulling Emma to her feet. “C’mon.” They moved to the open space by the hi-fi where other couples were dancing to the BeeGees. Emma pulled Trina into her arms, hands lifting the tiny white sailor skirt, and massaging heated glutes as they danced and kissed.

“You seem to be hungry tonight,” Trina said. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m just tasting some of your hard work from this afternoon.”

“Cheese and crackers hardly constitutes hard work,” Trina said, rolling her eyes.

Emma dipped her head and nosed up under Trina’s jaw, nibbling and kissing at the throbbing pulse in the woman’s throat. “Gathering my strength.”

Trina’s brown gaze was as heated as Emma had ever seen when she pulled back to gauge the effect she was having. All right then. Emma smiled and squeezed the ass in her palms. “Playroom,” Trina said.

“Playroom,” Emma confirmed.

 

* * *

 

Downstairs the playroom was busy and noisy with sounds of sex and laughter. The air was laden with cinnamon scent from the candles burning to keep the atmosphere intimate. Emma took off her glasses and tucked them in the suit’s oversized pocket. Bodies writhed and panted on the numerous mattresses and cushions. The “harem” space had a maharaji hat peeking out between the sheer drapes coming down from the ceiling. At the swing, a blond man and woman were taking turns fingering and fucking a voluptuous redhead who pulled at the ropes making herself swing more vigorously onto the woman’s hand, even as she grunted demanding, “more!”

Emma smiled and recalled her own times in that swing and the freedom to just take and take, never worrying about feeling too needy.

Trina led Emma to a set of play pillows, wedges and sheets. Tom’s dark blond figure was easily recognizable on another set of pillows nearby. He had a blonde woman with short cropped hair on her hands and knees banging back onto his stiff cock; Emma saw the condom on it glistening each time he slid out. Ecstasy Emma was well-familiar with contorted the woman’s face when Tom reached around her hip and obviously added to her pleasure with his fingers on her clit.

The woman gasped and dropped her head onto the pillows, leaving her rear in the air. Trina chuckled.

Emma smiled at her and they knelt together on the cushions. “He’s so good,” Trina said. “But I wanna show off how well you fuck me,” she added, pulling Emma by the lapels until their mouths crashed together. She pulled off the big jacket, but left Emma’s thick shirt. She opened the zipper of the pants, releasing the realistic dong. She bent and pulled it into her mouth, cooing as she mouthed it, wetting it thoroughly. Emma’s body rocked into the attention, the back of the dong’s realistic balls pressing into her clit.

Stroking Trina’s shoulders Emma gradually worked the other woman out of the sailor top until she had bare breasts in her hands. There was a clasp at the side of the skirt, but for now, Emma pulled it up inches at a time, showing off the fine ass she was about to have to a pair of men nearby who were slyly eyes up even as they ate out their respective partners. Emma admired the pale bodied women, their curves undulating, and glistening with a thin layer of perspiration, and could definitely say she loved most women’s looks, as she did many men. As she looked back down to Trina’s midnight black hair, intent face, dark lashes fluttering against olive complexion, and the golden skin on her shoulders and back as she flexed, Emma knew though that this was a special attraction she had with Trina.

It was more than her looks. It was the exuberance she brought to life, the playfulness, the touching bounty of wisdom, too. Emma grasped Trina under her shoulders, hauling her up along her body, latching on with a deep kiss the moment her mouth was within reach.

She clutched Trina’s body to her, and then lowered her, bending forward until the woman rested amid the cushions. She reverently stroked breasts and belly all the while continuing to kiss, taking in Trina’s welcoming moans and giving back her own as she repositioned them in the cushions, lifting Trina’s legs over her hips and atop a wedge pillow that brought the woman’s hips higher than her shoulders. Emma stroked, massaged, and squeezed the powerful muscles she wanted wrapped around her. Then she guided Trina’s ankles behind her back and the unspoken “hold me” brought Trina’s arms around her shoulders, pulling her down, aligning their bodies. She canted her hips, and found the tip of her strap on with her hand between their bellies. Pulling back, she stroked with her fingers around and then into Trina’s wetness, all the while holding the brown gaze in the flickering candlelight. She pulled a condom from her pocket and Trina took it from her fingers, unrolling it over the tip and down.

Emma jerked slightly and gasped; Trina smirked at the result of her pressing briefly at Emma’s clit beneath the harness. In reply, Emma lifted the tip and slid it up and down the lips of Trina’s warm wet center, her fingers becoming slick.

With a tap to her shoulder, Emma took the cue and slid fully inside on one deep stroke. Then she began rocking her hips, moving the dong only slightly as she circled Trina’s clit with her thumb. Trina’s ankles locked behind her back and she began lifting her hips, forcing herself up and onto the dong, creating the sight of her pussy swallowing the dong, just as her mouth had a few minutes ago.

She grabbed Trina’s breast with her other hand, plying the nipple between her fingers, twisting. Trina gave an incoherent cry and her head and shoulders rolled back, pushing her breasts outward.

Emma pulled on the nipples, alternately twisting and pinching, while Trina continued to raise her hips impaling herself on the long, thick dong. Emma finally released Trina’s breasts and reached out, pinning Trina’s arms, and began driving her hips into Trina’s. The woman pulled back onto her elbows, raising her upper body and kissing Emma while she braced on her hands and fucked her. Her gut clenched and she felt the orgasm shooting spikes of pleasure from her groin into her legs and making them shake.

Cupping Emma’s cheeks, Trina spoke into her mouth, “Trick or treat?”

“You’re my treat,” Emma said, panting just a little. “So, what trick can I have?”

“I want you…” Trina’s voice trailed off as Emma knew it would from the dual sensations she was delivering to the woman’s clit and throat with her fingers and tongue.

“Yeah, I know you want me,” Emma teased, nipping at Trina’s throat. “but how would you like me?”

“Oh, god, don’t stop,” Trina gasped as the next stroke hit a particular spot. Emma grinned proudly. “Cocky is such a good look for you.”

Emma rotated her hips, pulling out and pushing back in. Trina’s fingers squeezed at her shoulders. “So?” she reminded. “My trick?”

“Just fuck me until I can’t think straight anymore.”

“You never thought straight to begin with,” Emma teased back, but she began working the dong in earnest, pulling out until the bulbous head rubbed against Trina’s lips and then pushing back in agonizing inches at a time, until she would slam the last of the distance, their flesh slapping wetly.

Trina sloppily pulled open Emma’s shirt, losing a few buttons but releasing the binding on her breasts. Emma cried out in pleasure as her breasts were first massaged, then pulled, then twisted, and finally she repeatedly slammed her hips forward as a way to release the rising need as Trina sucked on her nipples.

Emma shut her eyes and rolled her forehead down onto Trina’s shoulder, almost mindless now with the scent of Trina’s body surrounding her and the pulling she could feel on the dong as Trina’s muscles tried to grab and hold it. She tried to balance herself on her knees only to feel hands loosening her pants and sliding them off her hips. When the material was bunched around her knees, she knew her ass was on display, the leather straps of the harness bisecting her asscheeks.

Trina’s hands cupped her face again and then slid down, massaging her ass. A bigger hand joined hers on Emma’s skin, and Emma looked back to see Tom and his female partner sitting behind her, naked and hands on their thighs. But Tom had one hand that had joined his wife’s on Emma’s ass.

“Green,” she said positively. Tom’s hand slipped away from his wife’s and ventured between Emma’s thighs, spreading wetness he found. Emma glanced toward the blonde Tom had been with earlier and nodded in greeting.

The woman returned the regard with smiling blue eyes. “Val.”.

“Emma,” she replied.

The half-Windsor knot that had taken Emma nearly twenty minutes to perfect remained still tied around Emma’s neck; when it was pulled it brought Emma’s attention back to Trina. She moved her hips and grinned as Trina did the same. “Eat me, while you both fuck her,” Trina said.

Emma withdrew the dong and laid on her back, coaxing Trina to straddle her shoulders with a pat. Trina settled over her, knees on either side of her head, facing Tom and Val. Tom helped Val straddle Emma’s hips, removing the used condom from the dong and letting Val apply a new one.

Reaching up to guide Trina’s hips, Emma pulled her down over her and swiped her tongue from clit to cunt and back again in random swirls. Trina’s hands clutched at her chest, ribs, and waist. Sounds of pleasure continually fell from her lips. Underneath, Emma felt rather than saw Val lower herself onto the dong. In a brief space when Val and Trina pulled back in the midst of adjustments, Emma finally saw Trina guiding Val forward, and Tom moving in behind Val. Tom fussed at his crotch out of Emma’s line of sight, likely he was working on another condom. Emma  wondered if Tom was going to take Val in the ass only until she felt the thickness of his cock pushing against her dong, and his fingers sneaking a caress of her clit, just as his wife had done earlier. Val’s gasp when he pushed inside with Emma’s dong was short-lived.

Emma realized Trina probably kissed Val in the middle of the maneuver as Trina ground down on her face and Emma returned to her pleasurable task of sucking the new flow of juices. She let Tom maneuver his dick and her dong, until they were both fully inside Val. She felt the pull of the straps as the dong was pushed around by Tom’s cock, and Val’s hips shifted trying to open herself wider to their dual penetration.

Hands planted on Emma’s abs, Val began raising and dropping herself onto both of them. Tom’s hands on Emma’s thighs kept him steady before he finally shifted, folding his legs to the outside of hers. Emma heard the kissing going on above her, a light laugh -- Trina’s -- and then Tom’s fuller chuckle. He started to grunt, and Emma felt the hand seeking out his hip brush against hers briefly. The longer nails told her it was Val.

Trina tightened above Emma, the sign she was coming, so Emma redoubled her attentions, plying the underside of Trina’s clit with the tip of her tongue, and sucking at the opening enthusiastically.

With a pleased cry, the tightness gave way to weakened limbs and Trina collapsed forward, her head briefly on Val’s thigh until the woman moved away. Tom had lifted her up, balancing her on his cock as he turned her onto her back and started to plow away at her again missionary style next to them. In moments, Emma heard Val and Tom coming together, his groan intermingling with the other woman’s gasp.

Inhaling the cinnamon and paraffin smells from the candles and the scent of Trina’s sex that clung to her face, Emma stroked Trina’s back, reveling in the completely boneless way the other woman lay against Emma, her head now on Emma’s thigh, breath ghosting over Emma’s damp thigh. She listened to the music, and the sounds of sex and closed her eyes.

Trina’s fingertips lightly danced on Emma’s skin.

“She’s adorable,” said a voice Emma assumed was Val’s.

“Emma’s beautiful, inside and out,” Emma heard Trina replied as she sank into the contented cat-like feeling of Trina’s hand stroking Emma’s belly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who like to envision things, these are fuller descriptions of Tom, Trina and Emma's costumes:  
> Tom as “The Candy Man” (“dapper” suit in candy apple red)  
> Trina as “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” (sexy sailor suit)  
> Emma as “Bennie” of “Bennie and the Jets” (pale blue frippery suit, big glasses)


	4. Thanksgiving and Receiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma gets some news and receives a gift from Trina and Tom, and has a decision to make. Meanwhile, it's the day before Thanksgiving and Trina learns Tom won't make it home from his route before their traditional time together the next day. Emma offers comfort and company.

 

Emma had come over as soon as she received the letter, eager to share its contents with people who had come to mean so much to her. Trina was ecstatic and made a presentation to her that she “and Tom had considered long and hard.”

She turned her head the other way to stare at the shiny new house key to the Deckers’ North Shore home fisted in her other hand.

Trina had said she and Tom just knew Emma would get accepted to the community college. She’d be able to study and work toward a better job. But college costs would make it hard to keep her own place. So they wanted to welcome her into theirs. She’d looked so stunned Trina had just patted her on the shoulder, kissed her cheek and said to rest in the room. Dinner would be a few hours away since Tom had already left for his flight and she liked to eat a little later.

It had been almost two hours and all Emma had been able to do is strip down to her boy shorts and tank top, lay on the bed, and stare from the letter to the key and back again.

A fingernail tapped at the door. Emma looked up as Trina leaned in around the edge. “Hey,” the brunette said. A mixture of concern and what Emma had come to understand was love shined in her brown eyes.

“Hey,” Emma replied, rising up on her elbows.

“Still enjoying your achievement, I see,” Trina nodded toward the letter in Emma’s far hand.

“I don’t know what I should do,” Emma said.

“You should go to school.”

“I’ve got along pretty well so far without it.”

“You are amazing,” Trina assured, leaning over Emma and placing her hands on her forearms to balance as she sought out her lips. Then she settled onto the bedspread next to Emma’s hip. “And this will only make you more amazing.”

“It’s expensive.”

“Yeah, but you have a good job and if you stay here…”

“It’s been six months, you know?” Emma said, looking out the window.

Trina’s hand on her stomach drew her back. The heat in both hand and gaze soothed Emma’s anxiety. “I know.”

“I...it’s weird to think of staying,” Emma said.

“We didn’t offer this to make you feel trapped.”

“No one has offered anything like this before. I thought… y’know, no strings, no attachments.”

“And that’s still...we just want you to be happy, Em.”

“I am, god.” Emma pushed up further on her arms and captured Trina’s lips. "I am."

“But,” Trina pushed at her collarbone, “not enough to stay here while you do something that isn’t about sex.”

Emma started to open her mouth. Furrowing her brow, which Trina immediately smoothed with her fingers, Emma finally shrugged. She felt inadequate to express the conflict in her emotions. But she did not feel inadequate about sex.

Trina lifted a brow, and Emma watched it go up. Finally she exhaled, “Yeah, stupid huh?”

“Not stupid. Scared. I get it, you know. I do. When you don’t have a history of happiness, it feels beyond something you can handle when it happens.”

Emma shifted to the side and patted the bed. “Yeah.” Trina laid down next to her, wrapping her arms around Emma’s shoulders. “What if I flunk out?”

“You won’t. But you can stay here as long as it makes you happy.”

“Trin…”

“Em…” They slid together, legs intertwining, and kissed. Emma laid back again and Trina slid on top, the heat of her center through the thin dress rocked into Emma’s belly.

The phone rang. Emma resisted letting Trina sit up, but then the phone rang again. Accepting a parting kiss that suggested their evening would be very promising, Emma finally let Trina go.

She laid back on the bed, lifting the key to once again look at its edges and wonder what it was really going to unlock.

Trina’s voice drifted intermittently into the bedroom. Emma didn’t understand most of the conversation, but she did hear when the phone was hung up. She laid back, expecting Trina to return to the bedroom.

When several minutes passed and the door didn’t reopen, Emma sat up and considered what to do.

She glanced at the window, then the door, then another minute passed. “Trina?” Emma stood beside the bed then pulled on her jean shorts and walked out to the main part of the house.

Trina moved around the kitchen, but nothing was gathering on the counters. While Emma watched, she opened two different cabinets, stared into them for several seconds, then closed them, moving to the refrigerator, and finally standing at the sink, hands braced on the stainless steel.

“Trina?” Emma called quietly. The eyes that snapped up to hers were lost. Emma crossed the space quickly. “What happened?”

Trina’s brow furrowed, processing Emma’s question.

“Who was on the phone?”

“Tom.”

“OK.” Emma exhaled; if it had been Tom on the phone then nothing was wrong with him. “So Tom’s already in Boston then. He made good time.”

“Tailwind.”

“Yeah.” Emma took Trina’s hands off the sink. “So when’s his flight back?”

“They closed the airport.”

“Chicago?”

“No. Logan. He’s stuck until the white-out and ice conditions clear.”

“Oh, gee.” The situation crystallized for Emma in that moment.

Trina’s words and tone confirmed it. “He won’t be home for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

Emma hugged her; Trina clung back. If Emma was unused to feeling good, Trina was unused to feeling bad, particularly where Tom was concerned. He brought her such joy that she had been able to put a less than stellar childhood behind her. Without him, all the inadequacies came roaring back.

“Not since we were first dating did Tom miss a Thanksgiving.”

“Certainly you can just have it on Friday when he comes home.”

“The meal, yes.”

“But that’s not what you want.” Emma kissed her temple. “Come on, let’s sit down on the sofa.”

Turning on the hi-fi as she passed it, Emma led Trina over to the sofa and pulled the brunette down across her lap, tucking her against her chest and wrapping her arms around the other woman’s more slender body. Trina’s head tucked into her neck and hands splayed on Emma’s collarbone and chest before curling back onto herself.

The music, a mix of popular current tunes, filled the air quietly and Emma recalled the first time she had stayed over, Tom knowingly gone for three days on a series of hops. Trina handled that as “playtime.” They had played in bed and even enjoyed a mani-pedi session at a local salon together; two girl friends having “me” time without men. This unexpected separation, however, Emma sensed might not mean playtime, but Trina was still in need of contact, cuddling, intimacy.

Smiling into the dark hair, Emma squeezed a bit. She could definitely handle that.

Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” pulsed around them, and gradually the tension eased in Trina’s back. Emma’s hands massaged up and down Trina’s back before gradually burying in her hair and kissing the woman back who had lifted her chin and asked for more.

Walking her lips from mouth to ear, Emma whispered along with the lyrics of the next song, “...there’s a rainbow above you, you better let somebody love you…”

Trina’s chuckle vibrated her body in Emma’s hands and they eased apart, watching desire’s fire beginning to bank in each other’s eyes.

“You are such a mushball,” Trina said.

“I can be a little harder,” Emma teased, pushing her hips up under Trina’s bottom. “Just need a little prep.”

“I want you just the way you are.” Trina cupped her cheeks and lifted Emma’s face to hers, nibbling on her bottom lip and then slipping her tongue inside. Emma moaned, feeling her center instantly become slick.

Trina slid from Emma’s hips and took her hands as she also rose from the sofa. “Let’s dance,” she said.

Emma put her arms around Trina, and they began moving together to the next Eagles tune. She pulled Trina up and into her, then slid her hands down until she cupped the sweet derriere through the dress. A sway of their hips and a slip of her hand, and she was soon massaging beneath the dress, a little thigh and a tight ass covered in soft cotton.

Trina moaned into Emma’s kiss, and moved Emma’s hand with her own, so that Emma’s fingers slid between her ass cheeks. Emma gave a squeeze to show she understood. Trina wrapped her hands through Emma’s hair, around the back of her head, holding their faces close as she sucked on Emma’s tongue between kisses.

Continuing to dance, Emma spun Trina away from her and then pulled her back in, the brunette’s back tucked into her front. She skimmed her hands down the woman’s taut belly, wide over the flare of her hips and then pressed her crotch into Trina’s ass. She spread her palms down Trina’s center. Through the cotton of her panties, she massaged open the lips of her vulva and kissed Trina’s throbbing pulse in her throat. With her other hand she firmly pulled on a peaked nipple through the thin dress.

She nibbled at the creamy brown skin of Trina’s throat and massaged aside the cotton below until her fingers found sopping wet flesh. She slipped her hand away from the heat and laughed at Trina’s groan.

“Patience,” she murmured with a laugh as she started dropping the zipper and freeing the brunette until the dress pooled at her feet and she stood in only a half-cup tan bra and panties. Trailing kisses over flesh, Emma gradually dropped to her knees before Trina, still moving their bodies to the music’s beat. The center of the panties were a darker tan and soaked through. Emma placed a kiss over the very center, inhaling the musky scent and Trina’s hand came to the back of her head, already wanting to beg for pressure and contact where she needed it most.

She eased her fingers under the elastic and pulled wide and lowered slowly, teasing the hot flesh with breath from her nose and mouth. Trina’s fingers in her hair gripped suddenly very tightly, painfully. Emma applied her tongue quickly, then yanked down the underwear the rest of the way until Trina could step out of them.

Trina’s hands were sliding under the straps of Emma’s tank top, trimmed short nails grazing the skin.

Emma tasted spicy satin skin from hip to hip and delved once between the woman’s heated nether lips, bathing her tongue in the musky hot liquid. Urged on by the fingers in her hair, Emma turned Trina in her hands until the tight ass was under her mouth, her own tongue pushing between the globes and seeking out the puckered flesh to deliver a tantalizing rimming.

Trina bent forward, welcoming the contact, bracing herself on the sofa cushions. Emma pulled apart the taut muscles and pressed her fingers inside Trina’s tight wet center even as her tongue gradually opened the puckered muscles of the other woman’s anus.

Trina’s cries of pleasure were interspersed with pants and gasps. Reaching back, face pushed into the sofa, she held herself open for Emma’s attentions.

“I want your special brand,” she begged. Emma’s fingers pressed, molded and massaged Trina’s clit and labia until, almost effortlessly, she had three fingers pressing deep and making obscenely pleasurable sucking noises with Trina’s grasping flesh. Emma lapped around the edges, gathering some of Trina’s fluid and pushing it into the loosening ring of her ass with her tongue.

Emma pushed and pulled her fingers, responding to every sign from the brunette, as Trina writhed and begged for more pleasure.

Planting one hand in the middle of Trina’s back, Emma leaned back from her ministrations to see Trina’s asshole winking at her, loose and craving fulfillment. She licked again, prodding it open with her tongue and then turned her fingers in Trina’s grasping channel until her thumb rubbed the sphincter muscles and popped inside. She curled her hand, still stroking, thumb meeting fingers inside, the thin membrane separating the two channels, Trina gasped and bucked and Emma leaned over her, taking her free hand and lifting Trina off the cushions so she could play with her taut nipples.

There, pressed to Emma’s chest, Trina came undone. Emma rubbed her jean-clad crotch against Trina’s leg until she, too, came with an abrupt cry of fulfillment.

Before Emma could recollect herself, Trina had turned and pushed Emma onto the sofa. She stripped Emma’s pants and pushed her to the floor and, then, to the fast beat of The Doors “Light My Fire,” she sucked and licked Emma’s clit until the woman saw stars and screamed, coming with two of Trina’s fingers buried to the hilt in her twitching center.

Lifting off the floor, Trina pushed Emma against the wall, kissing her hungrily, tasting herself on the blonde’s lips and tongue. She murmured against the gasping mouth as the songs changed again. The Eagles “Peaceful, Easy Feeling,” matched the relaxation overcoming them both.

“Sleep with me tonight,” Trina asked.

“You only ever needed to ask,” Emma replied. Trina fell forward atop her, snuggling into the softness of her breasts and reveling in the way Emma stroked her hair, soothing, calming. She pressed kissed into the dimple between Emma’s collarbones.

Together they got up and gathered their discarded clothing.

Dinner was quiet, eating at the kitchen bar. Cold cuts on crackers, and cheese squares were nibbled hand to hand while they sipped a light wine. Afterward they put their dishes away and took their wine glasses with the rest of the bottle to sit before the fireplace.

The flames danced in her eyes as Emma felt Trina lean into her shoulder. Trina's hands touched her face and Emma blinked. She'd fallen asleep. Sheepishly she looked up at Trina's understanding smile. Taking Emma by the hand, Trina led the way to the master bedroom where Emma spooned her under the sheets until she slept.

In the morning, while they were jogging around the neighborhood, Emma told Trina she would stay.

 

###

 


	5. Come All Ye Faithful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma works herself into a case of the holiday blues when the last holiday season party she bartends for is the airline Tom works for. Seeing the couple together makes her feel like an outsider again. Trina and Tom work out a few ways to remind her they still want her in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the "Christmas" installment, though its a little late for Christmas. But this story became something more than simple smut and I'm rather happy with the poly relationship exploration it does. I hope you will enjoy it also.

**Scene 1: Holiday Blues**

 

Emma tapped her foot to the music, using a soft rag to polish the service counter’s surface.

“Drink?” She turned to the sound of a male voice that wasn’t speaking to her. A dark-haired stood a few feet away wearing in a crisp white shirt, green and red tie, and sprig of mistletoe pinned to his jacket pocket. The woman next to him, to whom he had been speaking, wore a festive Christmas red cocktail dress, a green stripe accenting the line of the dress off one shoulder and down to the waist, ending in a large bow on her hip. Emma shook her head, making the bell on the end of her elf cap jangle.

“Oh, hey, yeah. We’d like a couple champagnes,” he said, lifting up a billfold and extracting bills he then stuffed in the huge jar next to the beer pulls.

“Certainly,” she said, lifting two plastic champagne flutes from the stacks under the counter. On the counter as they watched, she filled each three-quarters full, per policy. “Here you are.” He smiled at her, a little lingering smirk that told her if he didn’t have a date… She purposely turned to the woman. “You let me know if you want another,” she said.

The woman, with a short Dorothy Hamill styled cut and freckles across her nose and cheeks, blushed almost as red as her hair at the attention. Emma smiled. The man slipped his arm around his date, put her drink in her hand and steered them both back out to the dancing space on the far side of the tables.

Couples and groups were mingling, rising or sitting, nibbling at the complimentary chips, pretzels, and dips, awaiting the company president’s arrival for the celebratory cake cutting. Company parties were all the same, and after Emma’s twentieth one this month, she was beginning to be weary of the entire routine. When booze flowed, propriety seemed to fly out of everyone’s head, by midnight, like some fairy-godmother’s spell had worn off.

“White wines, please.” Emma looked up abruptly from watching a portly man whom she’d bet three weeks’ pay was the company president, finally arriving at the rented ballroom’s entry.

“Tom?” Emma smiled, wishing she wasn’t behind the counter and could greet him properly. He put two five dollar bills in her jar. “I’d give ‘em to you and Trina on the house,” Emma said, passing over two glasses of a white.

“You gotta earn your college money somehow, kiddo. Can’t keep giving away free drinks to all the pretty boys,” He leaned in. “Or girls.” He winked. She laughed, the bell on her cap jingling again. He flipped it out of their faces which were now only a few inches apart.

“Is Trina here?” she asked, looking around behind him.

“Of course she is. This is the American company party.”

“That was tonight? This party?” Emma shook her head, jangling the bell discordantly along with her thoughts. “How did I not realize that?”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve been working every night since the month started.”

She looked him over. “You just making an appearance before heading over to the club?” He was in a brown sport jacket, wide-collared shirt, chest hairs just visible at the neck. It was a little more like his club clothes than a company holiday party.

“Nope, going directly home as soon as the boss cuts the cake and I cut a couple rugs with my lady per regs.” His smile was wry. Tom hated the politicking, preferring to fly his planes, and avoid the games. But he planned to get a promotion to management in the airline someday. That couldn’t happen if he didn’t press the flesh from time to time, talk up the timetables, and share in the route gossip that made others aware he was knowledgeable about the company, not just some cockpit flyboy.

“Decker?” Emma pulled back when the male voice behind Tom made him stand up straight and wince before making his expression “holiday bright” and turning around.

“Livingston, I presume?” Emma turned away so no one paid attention to her chuckle at Tom’s joke, but also pleased it had the desired effect on the portly man from airline management when she heard him laugh and slap Tom on the shoulder. “You flyboys love those adventures.”

“Jake,” Tom ventured the personal level sooner rather than later, extending his hand, which the man shook. “Happy holidays to you and your wife,” he said.

“And you and yours,” Jake replied. “Trixie, wasn’t she?”

“Trina.” Emma watched Tom bite his lip.

“She used to work for us, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you, plucking the little lady out of the working world,” Jake said.

Emma silently bristled on Trina’s behalf. The woman had enjoyed working, though now she put her people skills to use on community boards, and city council campaigns. Tom said nothing though, silence being the better part of valor when it came to some of the sexist views of upper management.

Exchanging a look with Emma over the man’s balding head, Tom put his arm around the boss’ shoulders and steered him toward a cluster of other pilots.

Tom was good to shut it down before Trina returned to his side. She wouldn’t let sexist stuff stand; yes, she had chosen to stop working and be a housewife, but that was her choice, and she wouldn’t begrudge any woman who wanted or needed to work, as Emma did.

Emma went back to work, pulling the tap for another man who stepped forward and requested a beer. During the exchange of money for the glass, he reached out and jangled the bell on her cap with a fingertip and a leer. She resisted rolling her eyes until he had walked away, thankfully without verbally propositioning her. Another thing to keep Trina far away from, Emma thought.

Then she saw her emerging from the restroom corridor. Trina was stunning but that was nothing new for the Latina, not really. Tonight, though, Emma thought she had outdone herself. The dress was forest green, sequins flickering in the ballroom’s swirling lighting. It came up to a narrow strip of fabric over her right shoulder, showing off a great deal of her shoulders and chest and the fall of the dress perfectly hugged her from breast to hips. She held a matching clutch in her left hand as she swept into the room, finding Tom with a quick swivel of her head. She smiled up at him when she tucked her arm into his and he kissed her before introducing her to the men and women in the small circle.

“D'you know how to make [cherry bombs](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/cherry-bomb/)?”

Emma inhaled and exhaled, reluctantly taking her eyes from the arguably handsomest couple in the room. She smiled brightly at the customer. “Anything you like. Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” he said. His eyes roamed the room while she mixed.

Finally when she had dropped in the maraschino cherries watching them fizz in the drink’s depths, she drew his attention back. “Here you are.”

He studied the tumbler glass and then downed the drink in one gulp. He slapped the glass back on the counter. Emma jumped. “Another.”

“Pay for that one first,” she said.

His eyes were rimmed with red when he looked back at her. She looked around the room where his eyes had been riveted while she was mixing and saw the source of his emotions. A bubbly redhead was pulling provocatively at the tie of a Superman-type, all beefy arms barely stuffed in a navy blue suit. The man in front of her by comparison was a Clark Kent, bookish, a little knock-eyed behind wire rim glasses. Obviously his date had found someone else to spend her time with.

“She’s not worth it,” she told “Clark.” “So, forget about her.”

“Would you date me?” he asked.

“That’s a kinda tricky question,” Emma replied, replacing his now-empty cherry bomb with straight up lime soda with a single cherry. “I’m currently...occupied.” She glanced over to see Tom taking Trina’s hand and leading her to the dance floor.

As they swung together into the beat of an upbeat rendition of “Rockin’ Round the Christmas Tree,” she smiled. Trina stepped high as she spun out of Tom’s embrace and then dipped back as he caught her across his left arm and pulled her back in. She rolled upright, pressing her body to his, and Emma felt her body tighten knowing exactly how good both Tom and Trina’s body’s felt pressed against her.

“That’s what I want someday,” “Clark” said, “Tom and Trina are gonna be old and gray together somewhere and still kicking it up.”

Emma nodded, now suffering a bit of holiday blues, damn “Clark.” She began buffing the counter, a silent “go away” to “Clark.”

He seemed to take the hint and, lifting his lime soda in a half-salute, he turned and walked away.

Biting her lip, Emma continued to buff the glasses and countertop while she surreptitiously watched Tom and Trina dancing. There were other couples on the dancefloor, but “Clark” was right, the Deckers were the only two who really looked to be enjoying each other more than the music.

In that moment Emma was swept back to seven months ago. The moments of first seeing the couple in the club. They had been carefree, just like this, laughing, drinking, and dancing, eyes only for one another. Emma had spent the nights thinking Trina was nuclear energy personified, and Tom was one lucky sonofabitch.

 

* * *

 

 

Trina kissed Tom and stepped away from the table with their empty glasses. She’d seen Emma at the bar and watched man after man approach her, most walking away easily and quickly with their drink orders, but others lingering, trying to chat up the pretty bartender. After she and Tom had come off the dance floor, a promise on their lips to just finish their drinks next and go, she had seen Emma again and the blonde wore only a fake smile. Trina had seen the expression a few times, when Emma was feeling particularly orphan-like.

Watching Emma as she approached the bar, Trina listened to the discordant cadence of the bell on the elf-cap. She smiled wryly at Emma’s obvious attempt to cheer herself. “Hard day at the workshop?” Trina asked softly, drawing Emma’s gaze to her.

“Hey,” Emma’s greeting was wan and the fake smile had yet to fall.

Trina looked around behind her then leaned forward across the counter. She didn’t immediately pass over the glasses in her hands though Emma moved to take them. Keeping her voice low, she asked, “Are you having a lot of trouble from drunks tonight?”

“No, no. it’s good. I’m fine. Making good tips.”

Trina grasped Emma’s fingers from the glass, and held them. Emma looked afraid now. “You look a little like the lost girl again,” she said gently. “You sure you’re all right?”

Emma’s smile faded and she looked away. “I gotta get back to work.”

“What happened, Em?”

“Tom said you were heading home. Why are you still here?”

“Because we’re enjoying the music and the company,” Trina said, wishing she could pull Emma to a table and really talk to her. “When do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“Last call is one a.m.”

“So, we’ll see you about two?”

Emma shrugged, not answering.

A man walked up as Trina was trying to figure out what to say. “Bourbon, neat.”

Emma turned to him, her gaze leaving Trina bereft. “That’ll be two dollars,” she told him.

Trina drifted away, puzzling over Emma’s behavior.

Tom cupped her elbows and kissed her forehead. “Everything all right?” he murmured against her skin.

“Something’s wrong with Emma.”

“You wanna stick around?”

“I know we normally leave early, but…” Trina looked over at a forcefully bubbly Emma pouring champagne for a couple. Her laughter was just a little too loud, a little too long and it pained Trina’s heart to hear it. “She needs us to stay,” she finished.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bar’s closed,” Emma said without looking up from the industrial sink where she was cleaning out the shaker glasses and other implements from her bartending kit.

“I was just hoping to have a drink off the bartender.”

Emma jolted upright and saw Trina leaning on the doorway. “Hey,” she greeted wanly. Trina stepped forward, cupped her cheeks -- her hands held glass or Emma would have done the same -- and kissed Emma sweetly on the lips.

Emma bit her lip. “I thought you and Tom were gonna leave.”

“We decided to make sure you got home safe.”

Emma dipped her gaze away. “I’m fine.” She lifted her hand to cover the one Trina had put on her cheek. “Thanks.”

“You’re not fine. Something happened earlier tonight and your sparkle fled. What happened?”

“Just got to thinking,” Emma said. She went back to cleaning her equipment.

“About what?”

“About what I’m going to do in January.”

“You’re going to school, is that still worrying you?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“We talked about that. I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“I’m still gonna just be a bartender,” Emma said. “And I should move on.”

“Move on?”

“Yeah, I can’t keep freeloading, it’s not fair to you and Tom.”

“We asked you to stay, Emma.”

“For how long?”

Trina frowned. “How long? As long as you want.”

“Why did you want me?”

Trina pulled back, and Emma wanted to avoid the searching look, but the hand grasping hers was strong. “Emma…” Her voice trailed off as she reached for Emma’s cheek, holding her chin firmly and making her meet her eyes. “Why are you asking this now?”

“You and Tom are...perfect together.”

“And you fit with us really nice.”

“I don’t know why.”

“Then I’ll show you.” Trina lifted Emma’s hands from the water and laced their fingers together, pulling them up to Emma’s shoulders where she firmly gripped as she pressed her body into Emma’s. Emma let her push them against the wall, eyes rolling back as she absorbed the addictive feel of Trina’s curves aligned to hers. Trina’s lips kissed her eyelids and then brushed feather-light down Emma’s cheeks to her throat, sucking intermittently between kisses. Emma’s moans grew with the arousal swirling in her belly. Emma’s hands moved uncertainly, both trying to cling to the other woman and pull herself away. After watching them tonight, she felt she had no right to any of it.

Keeping one set of fingers twined with Emma’s, Trina released one hand. “Go on,” she murmured into another claimed kiss.

“Tri...nnn…” Emma’s breath fled as she helplessly pulled Trina tightly against her, lips absorbing the satin feel of Trina’s mouth, hand caressing the solidity of Trina’s body. She gasped and then Trina’s tongue pushed between her lips. “Oh god,” she breathed, her knees weakening. If not for Trina half holding her up, Emma was sure she would have collapsed on the floor.

They ended up there anyway. Trina slowly guided Emma down the wall, straddling Emma’s hips as her legs splayed before her. Trina cupped Emma’s face and kissed, and kissed, and kissed her again. She guided Emma’s arms around her back and down to cup her ass under the skirt of her dress before returning her hands to Emma’s face and cradling it tenderly, resuming kissing.

Against her palms Emma felt the heat of Trina’s center close to her fingers and whimpered. Instead of stockings for the 20-degree snowy Chicago night, Trina wore garters, her underwear barely a scrap of silk covering her center. Emma’s mouth went dry. She croaked, “Trina.”

Trina parted Emma’s peppermint striped shirt, tugging the tail out of the holly green pants. Pinning Emma’s arms beneath her thighs, Trina pushed the top off shoulders, trapping her arms to her sides as she bared her breasts, heaving in a green bra. Emma started to speak, but Trina’s mouth cut off the sound.

“Emma,” she said when she let her breathe again. Her palm rested over Emma’s pounding heart. “I’m here.”

“Why aren’t you with Tom?” Emma asked.

Trina looked up away from Emma, and Emma heard the door to the kitchen open. She squirmed to see, to get to her feet, freeing her hands from beneath Trina’s body. Trina held her to the floor. “Hey,” Trina said.

“Everything all right in here?” Tom stood over them, concern and worry tugging away his smile. Emma pressed herself into Trina’s chest. Trina hugged her.

“Tom, I…”

“I was a little worried about you...both,” Tom said. He crouched down and rested a palm on Emma’s ankle. “Long night?” he asked, looking directly into Emma’s eyes.

“I...” Emma couldn’t explain.

“Too many long nights, I think,” Trina said. “I think you need a night off.” She brushed the long wisps of hair pulling out of Emma’s braid out of her face. “We’ll do something special.”

Emma looked from Tom to Trina and back to Tom. “Would... do you think we could go...out? The three of us?”

Tom reached out and pulled both Emma and Trina to their feet. “We’re all out right now,” he said.

“She’s feeling a little less a part of us,” Trina explained.

“Ah, dense male here. Gotcha.” He nuzzled Emma’s throat. Trina pressed against Emma’s back, the three of them making something of a sandwich, with Emma in the middle. Tom kissed Emma and brushed her nose with his; it was something he rarely did, but the gesture immediately made Emma feel lighter. “Tonight’s kind of gone, but do you trust me?”

Trina cupped Emma’s hand against Tom’s chest. Emma looked to her and saw her nod. “Yeah,” she answered him, thinking back to the time he had first approached her to join him and Trina after clubbing. His charm was irresistible.

“Then clean up here. Are you off work tomorrow?” He looked thoughtful when she nodded.  “Okay. Let’s go home. When the sun goes down tomorrow, we will put these fears of yours to rest, Ems.” He wrapped his arm around her back and kissed her temple. She closed her eyes and let her body rest briefly against his.

“I’ll drive with Emma,” Trina said. “Come on, let’s get your things out to your car.”

“All right,” Tom agreed easily. He kissed Trina on the cheek and then Emma on the corner of her mouth as she had started to turn toward the sink. He brushed his fingers on her cheek.

After Tom left, Emma and Trina packed her bartending equipment into a small crate which she carried out to her car in her arms.

“Emma.” Trina spoke when they stepped into the hotel’s lot for service vehicles which was lit only sporadically. “I know one night out isn’t going to fix what you think is wrong, but I hope it will show you it’s not as wrong as you think. It’s not like Tom and I have done this a lot,” she added. “You’re special.”

“You are so together though.”

“Dumb luck,” Trina mused. “Each milestone is new to us, too.”

“Seven months is a really long time.” It was longer than most of her foster home stays. The realization made her wonder if that wasn’t part of her restlessness. She was used to moving on by now. Emma put down the crate and pulled open the hood of her yellow Volkswagen bug, replacing the crate among her few things.

Trina leaned up against her, a warm barrier against the cold of Chicago’s deep winter. “You’re the only one we’ve ever asked to move in. And,” Trina added, “we can’t imagine it ending anytime soon.”

“Really?” Emma straightened.

Trina pulled the hood closed, turning and sitting down on it while pulling Emma down with her. She curled her hands around Emma’s forearms and looked earnestly into Emma’s eyes. “Really,” she confirmed, leaning up and pressing her lips to Emma’s.

 

**Scene 2: Hearts Afire**

 

Tom stepped into the house, shaking himself out of his heavy coat. He could hear John Denver crooning from the hi-fi and knew he’d probably find Emma and Trina snuggled in front of the fireplace. He knew Emma had an affinity for the country singer’s sentiments, having many nomadic years in the areas Denver sang about. No doubt she’d slept out under the stars between jobs, and between towns, many times. And the singer’s memories of childhood were the stuff her dreams were made of, things she’d wished to have, but never found.

He hadn’t know about her background when he first approached her all those months ago. Trina and he regularly went dancing at the club where she became the new bartender. From time to time, he would look over to see her studying them. Her face was a bright smile for the customers, but her eyes had spoken of melancholy thoughts. He then tried to determine if she was interested more in Trina or himself. To Trina’s delight he’d taken them to the club several weeks in a row, making out increasingly on the dancefloor to the electric beats. He had told her about his interest in the pretty blonde bartender. Trina then spent some time gauging Emma’s interest for herself between drink orders and seductive banter.

The fact that Emma kept looking toward him as Trina reeled her in closer made Tom’s decision easy. He’d left a big tip and Trina slipped a note with their number among the tight roll of bills. Emma had called them that night.

She had begun the conversation saying she wanted to return the money; she hadn’t done anything particularly special with their drinks the previous night to earn it. On the phone, he’d told her it wasn’t about the service, now or in the future. He had wanted to get her attention. She agreed to meet after her shift ended on Sunday morning for brunch at Harding’s Cafeteria. He’d admired her forthrightness, even as he recognized the instinctive self-protectiveness of meeting them for this first time away from the club in a public place. Emma Swan was definitely a woman used to taking care of herself.

He leaned into the living room and found both woman reclining on the sofa with half-full wine glasses within reach on the coffee table. On the wide cushions they lay tangled together kissing. Both women were nude, Trina’s toffee skin complementing Emma’s cream. Tom felt himself growing hard and went to the bedroom, pulling off his suit jacket and changing into denims. On bare feet he slipped back into the living room via the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. From her position, Trina saw him enter and sit on a nearby cushion chair.  She sucked a spot on Emma’s throat and made the woman moan. Tom adjusted his legs, crossing his right ankle over his left knee to ease the pressure on his cock.

Looking at his watch, he nodded to Trina over the mouth of his beer bottle. They had time before the reservations. Trina coaxed Emma up. The blonde braced against the sofa arm as Trina sucked on her nipples, alternating left and right while her hands firmly massaged the cheeks of her ass and dipped and circled into her. Tom watched as Emma’s arousal made both Trina’s fingertips and the soft flesh of Emma’s cunt glisten in the firelight. Emma arched herself, bringing her head down to Trina’s and capturing her lips before adjusting to put one foot on the floor and press their centers together.

This was reminiscent of their first time together here, he thought, though the warm spring night had not needed a fire, and in fact they had been on the floor after several hands of strip poker. Trina had been the first to lose her top, but Emma’s distraction had her down to skin quickly. Tom, however, had been the first course, as the two of them licked and sucked his hardness. He had come in the condom Trina unrolled over his length and removed himself to clean up, coming back to find the women sixty-nining on the rug.

Trina’s finger slipped to the second knuckle in Emma now and Emma’s breathily drawn out “fuuckkk” brought Tom back to the present. He lifted one finger from alongside the beer and Trina nodded as she withdrew her finger. “Tom’s here,” she murmured to Emma.

Emma’s green eyes were quickly turned to see him. She smiled and said, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he replied, waving the same finger alongside his beer. She laughed at that, as he knew she would.

“Get yourself over here,” Emma ordered.

Tom put down his beer on the table when he moved across the floor and dropped to his knees beside the women on the sofa. Their skin was warm as his palm slid first against Emma’s thigh, and then Trina’s hip. Emma gasped a little. “Beer hand,” she muttered. “Cold.”

“Oh, but I warm up so quickly,” he teased, easing his fingers over her ass, meeting Trina’s briefly. The two of them teased at the skin on Emma’s inner thigh.

He moistened his fingers in his mouth while Emma watched. He slid his finger down and in, curling it slightly, so his knuckle bumped the underside of Emma’s clit. His fingers were longer and thicker than Trina’s and from this angle he had better access. She was a warm sheath around his finger and he sought out the contours. Emma rocked on the finger and asked for more as she braced on the arm of the sofa, her breasts swaying into Trina’s face. His wife needed no prompting and grasped a breast to hold it as she sucked and teased the tip.

Trina’s other hand joined his at Emma’s center, her fingertips rubbing a little on the hood of Emma’s clit and then down the sides. Tom felt the channel tighten on his finger and stroked inward before pulling out and positioning two fingers to push back inside. Emma opened for him easily and she sighed happily. She rolled a little off Trina, turning them both onto their sides.

Tom smiled because this made it easy for him to finger both of them deeply. Emma kissed Trina and then looked down, watching Tom slip his fingers from her and taste them, cleaning them before pressing both easily into Trina, and heard his wife’s immensely satisfied “yessss.”

He wet two fingers from his other hand with a quick lick before he filled Emma once more. Between moans, Emma and Trina kissed, tongues twining. Trina’s hands filled with Emma’s hair. Emma’s fingertips traced Trina’s cheeks and she interspersed languid kisses with searching his wife’s gaze.

In their actions, he knew, there was an element of show for him. They had never failed to include him when he was present, but the loving contact was for each other, too. Trina filled some indefinable hollowness in Emma. The blonde, in turn, gave his wife something unique, a receptive place for her deepest feelings, which was wonderful to witness.

Their hips rocked hard onto his hands, Emma’s movements jerky and unrefined, Trina’s fluid and slow. He rotated his fingers for Trina and added his thumb to Emma’s clit. He watched their faces, skin flickering and glistening in the fire’s light. Emma’s head tossed back, Trina’s rolled forward against Emma’s collarbone, kissing the top of her breasts. Both women panted, cried out, and grasped for a shoulder or a hip to stabilize themselves before the final plunge.

The centers around his fingers pulsed and throbbed and tightened. Emma bore down, her teeth gritting slightly. Trina’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ and her center fluttered almost like the wings of a bird before sucking his fingers in more deeply.

He bent forward and kissed each woman’s hip as they subsided and his fingers slid free.

Trina rested her head on Emma’s right breast, cupping the peak. Emma lifted her head so Trina was tucked under her chin. Her green eyes, slowly losing their dilation, turned to Tom.

“Are you ready for our night out?” he asked.

“You really did?” she asked.

“Yep.” He felt, in that moment, as Emma’s wonder shone in her eyes, almost like a big brother giving his little sister a cherished present. He grinned as he thought it, knowing he would never do with a sister what he was doing with Emma Swan. But the feelings persisted, a mixture of pride and satisfaction to see her happiness.

His gaze moved to Trina’s glistening dark brown eyes and her lips quirked up at the corners in a secret smile.

 

**Scene 3: Love in the Rainbow**

 

Stepping into the supper club, Emma unbuttoned her long coat and smoothed her lavender cocktail-length dress. Her long hair was pinned back to one side with a matching wide clip. They all checked their coats, and Tom put the claim slips in his polyester suit’s inside lining pocket. Trina put her hand on Emma’s upper arm and slid the other arm around it. Tom took Emma’s other side, his arm encircling her back, hand skimming her ass before settling on her hip. She looked up at him; he lowered his face to hers and tickled her lips with his own. “Hungry?” he asked.

“She’s always hungry,” Trina said, lips against Emma’s throat as she spoke. Emma heard the light laughter in the other woman’s voice. When Trina eased back, Emma turned to see brown eyes twinkling at her. Hunger did indeed pull at her belly, though not exactly for food.

The maitre’d spoke with Tom, and was told of their reservation. “Right this way, mes amis,” he said. “We have arranged dining for you in the loft this evening.”

Emma looked up at the words, seeing a second level that looked remarkably like theater boxes, balconies hidden by rich drapery, just before they were led up a narrow staircase. The dining alcoves were private, yet each faced the narrow corridor. Cream-colored upholstered benches encircled oval tables set with crystal and linen cloths. Emma received nods from couples at various stages in their dining.

“Here we are,” the maitre’d said, finally stopping before an empty table. He plucked the reservation card from the front and pocketed it in his dark suit. “May I suggest an aperitif?”

Tom looked to Emma and Trina, taking their nods as permission. “Three Brandy Alexanders.”

“Very good, sir.” The maitre’d dipped his head and withdrew. Emma and Trina slid into the seating, Tom going to the other end, so that Emma was in the center with him and Trina on either side. She found the long draping tablecloth shortened on this side, so that their legs fit unencumbered beneath, and side by side.

Tom tapped his finger on the tabletop. “They turn the tables and open the balconies when there’s a show on the stage. This is a converted theater.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” Emma said, steepling her hands and looking around at their surroundings. “The place is gorgeous.”

Trina pressed against her left side, a hand drifting into the hair at her nape and the other settling warmly on Emma’s exposed thigh. Warm breath hummed in her ear as she said, “So are you.” Emma closed her eyes and absorbed the sensation of soft lips brushing the taut tendon behind her jaw.

Tom leaned in, his mustache tickling the other side of Emma’s throat. His breath was warm, and his words teasing as he admonished Trina, “I think we ought to let the woman eat before we ravish her. She’ll need her strength.” His hand met Trina’s on Emma’s lap, and both of them slid their fingers under the edge of her dress, the heat from their touches to the inside of her thighs nearly immolating her with desire on the spot.

Emma exhaled, shakily reached out a hand in each direction, and cupped a cheek as Tom and Trina both pressed their lips firmly to her throat. They hadn’t even reached the appetizers and Emma was ready to be done with dinner and move on to the next course, which she hoped sincerely involved getting skin to skin and thoroughly sweaty with both Trina and Tom. “So, what’s on tap for the evening?” Her voice, unsurprisingly, was breathless.

“Dining, dancing,” Tom began. He grinned at Emma. Trina’s hand drifted up his chest, grasping his tie, loosening it a little.

“And more dining,” Trina added into Emma’s ear with a voice draped with delight and conspiracy.

Emma opened her eyes to find a waiter setting down three long-stemmed wide bowl glasses, moving one at a time in front of Trina, then herself, and finally Tom. She lifted the glass, studying the contents critically as Trina nuzzled her throat. She sniffed, catching the mix of nutmeg and creme de cacao just under the rich tones of a top shelf brandy. She nodded to the waiter and he withdrew. Taking a sip she turned to Tom. “I approve.”

He laughed and kissed her, his tongue tasting the light froth dusting her lips. “Only one I’ve had better was mixed by you,” he said as their lips parted.

She smiled and sipped again. Trina cupped her chin and drew her face around to kiss and taste the drink on her mouth. “Mmmm,” Trina hummed. “Perfect mix.”

Emma nuzzled Trina’s cheek as the woman pulled away and watched as she sipped on her cocktail. Soft foam gathered on her upper lip and Emma leaned in when the glass moved away. This kiss was sweet, succulent. Tom’s hand came up to her mid back, thumb moving in gentle circles. Trina sucked on Emma’s tongue, making desire pool suddenly in Emma’s belly. She felt the heat in her cheeks as she eased back, pressing into Tom’s chest. He held her hips, fingers across her belly setting her tingling even as Trina’s hand once again found her thigh.

Trina’s eyes were dark pools of desire as they found Emma’s through the dim lighting. “Makes me think about chocolate sundaes.”

“Sounds like dessert has been planned,” Tom said meaningfully. “Dinner thoughts?”

Emma sat forward, hands braced on the seat back and Tom’s pants-clad thigh. “What’s on the menu?”

Another voice spoke up. “Tonight’s dish is a choice between pineapple glazed grilled chicken or red wine beef tips.” Looking up, Emma found their waiter patiently standing before the table, hands behind his back. “Which would you prefer?”

Tom kissed Emma’s temple and answered, “I’ll have the beef tips.”

Trina and Emma chose the pineapple glazed chicken. The waiter withdrew. Emma puzzled aloud, “The wait staff seems unfazed.”

Tom said, “This club was popular with O’Banion and Moran. Discretion became their business.”

“Mobsters? And it’s now a swingers club?”

“Among other things,” Trina said. “Basically a no-judgment zone.”

Emma nodded and lifted her drink to her lips. Feeling Trina’s hand moving softly on one thigh and Tom’s resting on the other, Emma absorbed the ambience she couldn’t see but could hear beyond their booth. Instrumental music created a soft background, along with the sounds of china, silverware, and glasses clinking in the hands of neighboring diners.

She had never experienced anything as ritzy as this place. When she had been with Neal they’d never been able to afford it. After jail, she’d kept to simple sustenance. She looked left and then right, at Tom and then Trina, thinking how much they had opened her eyes to possibilities. On the streets learning to survive since she was sixteen, Emma thought she had life figured out. At least the part that it was always going to be a struggle, always going to be trying to kick a person like her in the teeth. But Tom and Trina had come from difficult upbringings, too, and yet here they were in some of the most sumptuous surroundings Emma had ever seen. Totally being themselves, and being accepted for themselves.

“Thank you,” she said. A hand squeezed on each leg, acknowledging her words.

 

* * *

 

 

The food, when it arrived, was delicious, leaving a warm satisfaction in Emma’s stomach, neither too much, nor too little food. At one point she had commented on the aromas coming from Tom’s beef tips and he’d presented her with a bite. Offering him a taste of hers was a natural reply. He kissed her afterward. She turned to offer Trina a bite as well. Since they had the same entree the gesture was unmistakable: share and share alike.

Trina smiled into the bite and then lingered into the kiss, leaving Emma chuckling. “Trying to outdo Tom?” she said.

“Friendly competition,” Trina replied, pressing in for another quick taste of Emma’s lips.

Emma looked down to see her meal was finished. She sipped at the accompanying wine, a dry white, clearing her palate and considering the evening already a success.

“It’s not over,” Tom said. “We’re both going to take you on the dance floor next.”

Emma smiled. Both were amazing dancers, whether the beat was fast or slow. “Downstairs?” she asked.

“There’s a space set aside up here,” Tom said.

“All right.” Emma sipped the last of her wine and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.

Tom slid out from the table and held out his hand. When she took it, he guided her to her feet. While she adjusted her dress, he pulled Trina up, and Emma watched as the brunette molded her body to Tom’s and the couple briefly lost themselves in kisses that visibly weakened Trina’s knees, and vicariously pooled arousal in Emma’s belly once more.

His voice was roughened by his own need when he spoke, “So. Ladies, shall we?” He held his elbows out toward each of them.

The waiter just outside their alcove exchanged nods with Tom and moved toward the top of the stairs, while Tom led Trina and Emma in the other direction. They found a heavily draped archway. Beyond, Emma could hear music and the swish and stomp of shoes. Tom held aside the drape, guiding both women forward with a light touch to their backs. “Here we are,” he said.

The space was heavily draped in three directions, obviously muffling the sounds from the DJ stand in the corner so that only this room’s occupants could hear the chosen music. The fourth wall was high-arched and curved over the space. The dance space was roomy, and Emma noticed only half a dozen other people present. Four moved on the dance floor in various configurations, partnering and unpartnering to the beats of the music.

Small low couches lined the wall, spaced by small tables with single drawers. On one of the couches sat two people, a Latin man with silver hair dressed in a pinstriped suit, and a woman sat on his lap, her back against his front. His hands held her across the chest as she rocked with her head thrown back. Her feet, arched high in four-inch heels, tapped on the floorboards. Emma recognized the rear entry positioning and smiled at the open display.

The current song ended and Emma looked around in the brief silence to see Tom straightening up from talking with the DJ. He waved Emma to the center of the room where he put his arm around both her and Trina just as the music started.

Emma smiled as the disco dance tune began. She stepped into the beat, turning and twisting. Soon she was laughing with abandon. Rolling her hands over one another, she slid back on her heels and tossed her hips. Tom turned to face both her and Trina, and Emma angled so that they were three points on a triangle. Trina’s face was high with color and, by the third song, bore a shine of perspiration.

The three moved to the center of their little triangle, dancing in close, foreheads resting together as they moved their feet, and looking from one to another’s eyes. Emma aimed a kiss for Trina’s lips, only for it to land on the woman’s nose. She laughed and started to back up.

“Get back here.” Trina wrapped up Emma in her arms and kissed her back properly as Emma felt Tom swivel his hips into her rear.

Emma rolled her hips into Tom’s hands and spun Trina around, pulling the woman’s hips back into hers, coaxing the hips to grind into her pelvis. The trio danced forward in a train, laughing as they moved to the closing beats of the tune.

Holding Emma’s gaze over her shoulder, Trina ground her rear meaningfully into Emma’s pelvis. “Tom get his turn first,” she murmured. “Then I want to make love with you right on this dance floor.” Trina punctuated her statement with a hand under Emma’s chin and pulled their mouths together for a determined kiss.

Trina slipped away from Emma’s hands trying to hold onto the lithe body. Emma watched her settle demurely on a couch, ankles linked and knees together to the left.

Emma turned into Tom’s arms as the new song started. He lifted her one hand to his chest and the other held her hips. Resting his head against the side of hers, he murmured the lyrics into her ear and she more than willingly softened into his hold. His hand moved warmly up and down her back before cupping her rear. She wiggled her ass, inviting more of his touch. His hand left hers on his chest, only to stroke that one down and pull her body into his hardening erection. Her response was to grind forward into it.

His fingers moved under her dress, between her thighs, and beneath her underwear. She felt the tip of one slide in her wetness and nuzzled into his chest as the broad finger inched inside. Her center twitched around the digit and Tom lifted her with both his hands under her ass, the one finger still just barely tipped inside. His strength made her feel protected and cherished as he held her and spun her. They kissed, mouths lingering together, she enjoying the soft brush of his mustache against her nose.

Her knees settled to either side of his thighs as he lowered them to a couch. She ground into the tent of his erection as his finger pushed fully inside, the angle making her feel full instantly, and every tiny twitch of his finger magnified. She closed her eyes, cupping her arms around his neck. She opened her eyes at a touch to her back and found Trina sitting beside Tom. The look on the woman’s face was enthralled, tender and loving. Emma pressed into the palm Trina cupped to her cheek, and then turned and kissed the fingers as she rode Tom’s hand.

Emma’s heart thumped to the beat of the music and her center pulled at Tom’s finger. The combined actions finally pushed her over into a gentle release. He kissed her throat as she let her mind drift.

She still felt energized beneath the calm and signaled this to Trina by pulling the woman’s face up to hers and deeply claiming her mouth, pushing her tongue past lips opening more than willingly.

“Next dance is mine,” Trina affirmed, nibbling back at Emma’s lips. Emma followed Trina upward when the woman made to move off the couch. Their palms slid together, each pulling back on the other, bringing them both upright in the middle of the floor. Emma glanced toward Tom, seeing him adjust himself discreetly and signal to a passing waiter. After a moment’s consultation the waiter scurried to the DJ. Turning back to Trina, Emma cupped the woman’s face in her hands. Then she knew what Tom had done as the first notes of the song began: Johnny Nash’s “I Can See Clearly Now.”

Trina pulled Emma into her and the two began swaying to the music.

Feeling clear and settled, Emma lifted Trina’s head, tracing her fingertips under the woman’s jaw looking deeply into the brown gazing lovingly back. When they kissed, tongues caressing, Trina’s hands cupped Emma’s face, fingers sliding into her hair. The motions of Trina’s fingers sent sensual shivers into Emma’s groin and she moaned softly into their next kiss. Trina now held control. As the song’s final notes faded, Trina stroked down Emma’s front, separating their bodies until she pushed squarely on the woman’s shoulders, setting her off balance and backward onto a couch. Trina quickly straddled Emma, grinding down on her as Emma settled hands on the writhing woman’s hips. Their kisses grew in intensity until Trina pulled herself away, pressing a lingering finger to the lips in parting. “Such sweetness,” the brunette murmured, “but you have something even sweeter awaiting, don’t you?”

Grinding down so Emma could make no mistake what she meant, Trina gradually moved down Emma’s front, palming and pressing breasts and nipples before pulling at one through the fabric of her dress. Emma’s hands helplessly went into Trina’s hair, the fine strands tickling her fingertips. Her forearms were suddenly resting on her own thighs. Trina had lowered herself completely to the floor between Emma’s knees. She looked around to see Tom on another couch, sipping what appeared to be simple ice water. Otherwise the room had been emptied except for the DJ who, at Tom’s lift of a finger started another tune: Roberta Flack’s “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” Emma held Trina’s gaze as the woman broke into a slow devilish smile, and her fingertips began circling on Emma’s ankles in time to the music.

Emma’s head rolled back as those same satin fingertips traced their way up the inside of her legs to her thighs, disappearing beneath the hem of her dress. She felt the tip of a warm wet tongue following the path of fingers and hummed appreciatively as she stroked Trina’s hair, then murmured, “Trina, yes,” over and over to let the woman know her attention was eagerly desired. At the first touch of that pushy little muscle between her labia, Emma felt her entire lower body convulse toward a single point. She gasped and clutched at Trina’s hair, causing the other woman to pull back. “Sorry,” Emma gasped.

Trina chuckled and, in truth undeterred, she returned her lips and tongue to Emma’s center, the minor irritation of her cotton underpants being bunched aside quickly forgotten in the rush of pleasure. Trina’s gifted touch ratcheted Emma’s passion higher and higher until she couldn’t contain the pleasure and it pulsed and flowed through her. Trina sucked and licked until Emma could only twitch and murmur to let her up.

Rising and helping Emma smooth her dress, Trina then cupped Emma’s cheek, her thumb brushing away tears drying on Emma’s skin. Kissing Emma sweetly, Trina settled onto Emma’s lap, placing Emma’s hand between her thighs. She whimpered when Emma’s fingers found her, warm, wet, and welcoming. “Emma.”

Trina’s clit was hard and tender to the touch, making Trina gasp at the slightest provocation. It was obvious to Emma that Trina had spent most of the evening aroused, simply because of spending their time together. Emma kissed her, swallowing Trina’s breathy pants as she slid two fingers past the rigid nerves and curled inside, feeling Trina’s walls throb and soften, pulling her in deeper. She twisted her fingers and Trina clutched at her neck, rocking her hips, finding her release quickly.

She kissed Trina’s forehead then felt a big hand on her shoulder before Tom’s lips pressed to her forehead and he settled to the cushion next to her.

“Thank you,” she said, brushing her fingers through the sweat-dampened ends of Trina’s hair.

“You’re welcome,” Tom said, and his fingers brushed through her hair as he kissed her temple again.

Trina smiled at them both, brushing first Tom’s cheek then Emma’s. “You’ve become part of us,” she said.

 

###


	6. Educating Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's going to be starting as a student in the coming term. For New Year's Day, Trina and Tom have planned a roleplaying scene to celebrate her new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is roleplaying amid the participants in this story. Sometimes they are behaving "in scene" and sometimes they are not. It's a fluid situation and as true and honest as I can be with the emotions shared by these characters. There is mild discipline and suggestions at restraint during the scene moments. There is also fellatio, M/F sex, cunninlingus, female anal play, and F/F 69-ing.

**Scene 1 - the note**

 

Despite being out at another private party bartending for New Year’s Eve until far too early/late, Emma rolled herself excitedly out of bed. Tom and Trina had promised they would start the year as they intended to end it, together. And she was eager to learn their new year’s day plans.

Lightly tapping at their bedroom door, Emma saw on the wall clock that it was just past ten a.m. When there was no answer thinking maybe she’d get a chance to wake them up her own way, Emma gingerly leaned in, expecting to see them still deeply sleeping in their king-sized bed. Instead she found the bed not only empty, but neatly made, as though it had never been slept in.

Had they not come home, choosing instead to stay at the neighbor’s house where they said they were ringing in the new year?

Emma searched for signs of the couple who were becoming closer to her than any family she had ever had. She walked through the house, finding no sign or sound of Tom or Trina in the living room, kitchen, or out on the back deck -- which would have been ludicrous in the twelve degree temps and the four inches of snow that had accumulated in drifts overnight. She checked the garage and found their car parked in its usual place. She put her hand on the hood as she pondered where to look next.

She heard a door sharply close somewhere inside the house. Rushing back, she checked the front door, opened and closed it to be sure that the couple hadn’t gone outside, then started checking all the doors in the house. She finally came to her own bedroom. The door was closed; she had not shut it that morning when she exited.

Smiling, thinking she would find Tom and Trina rolling around on her bed ready to invite her to play with them, Emma pushed the door inward and entered her room.

“Getting started without --?” Emma cut herself off as she saw her bed was made and only occupied by a stack of clothing. She thought at first it was her laundry, but when she made a closer inspection the colors didn’t seem to match anything she owned. Snatching up the note she found atop, she smiled at the words:

“Time for a new uniform, Miss Swan,” the note declared. “Ten-thirty-basement of Decker Hall. Do not be late. Safeword - dropout.”

From the bedside clock Emma realized she had less than three minutes to dress and report for “school.” She dropped the note and picked up the clothes, discovering a remarkable facsimile of a private school girls’ uniform: crisp white oxford shirt, a little tight across the bust, gaping over her breasts, a barely knee-length tartan-print style red and black plaid skirt. Knee high socks and patten leather shoes completed the ensemble. The items were all enough on the tight side that Emma wondered if this wasn’t merely a costume, but had been Trina’s school uniform before it entered the Deckers’ roleplaying chest. She was surprised she hadn’t seen it before.

Dressed quickly she fretted about her hair -- braiding would take way too long -- and decided a pair of long pig tails would have to do. She tied them off with elastic bands. Then she gathered up one of the textbooks she had already purchased for her classes, and a notebook and blue pen.

As she stumbled a little in the tight shoes toward the basement door, Emma smiled, eager to find out what “lessons” her two teachers had in mind for her today. A rush of warm love and lust settled into the apex of Emma’s thighs as she pulled open the basement door.

 

**Scene 2 - Pleasing the Principal**

 

Dressed in a conservative gray business suit -- Emma was surprised he owned such a thing -- Tom paced at the foot of the stairs, checking his watch. Emma’s footsteps made him turn around quickly and slap his hands to the railings, barring her way. Emma jumped as she met his gaze.

“Miss Swan, you are late Again. You cannot expect to get a quality education when you are constantly late to this school.”

Emma blinked. His tone was perfect, reminiscent of the principal at her last high school in the hinterlands of Kentucky, when she’d been sixteen. But apparently she waited to long to respond because he boomed again, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Decker. I won’t be late again.”

He corrected her, “It’s Principal Decker. You say that every time, Miss Swan, and it is clearly a lie. You know what the punishment is for lying.” He pointed toward a table where a small paddle lay.

Emma swallowed. “Oh please don’t.” She finished stepping off the stairs, still hugging her school supplies.

“I know you are one of our scholarship students, Miss Swan, but you cannot be allowed to continue to take advantage. You must learn your lessons. Better yourself.”

“I can,” she replied. “I can. I swear--”

He shook his head. “We are a catholic institution, Miss Swan. There will be no swearing here. Come with me.” He grasped her arm and dragged her forward.

“No, sir. Please. I--I’ll do anything.”

He pushed her down into the chair at the table and pulled her books out of her hands. She let them go reluctantly. He perched on the desk, placing his shoe between her thighs. She stared up at him. “Anything?” he asked, his voice rough and yet still commanding.

She nodded. “I don’t want to be a dropout, sir. I know that education is the only way I’ll make something of myself.”

He cupped her chin, lifting her eyes. “You will have lunch detention here, with me, every day.”

“Every day?” she clarified. “What will I do?”

“You will learn skills every young woman needs to flourish in the world.”

She squirmed. “What sort of skills?”

“Have you taken the business skills class, dear? I have filing, and typing.”

She looked around and then leaned forward. “And _dictation_ , sir? I can handle it all.”

Tom smiled at her. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He grasped her arms and pulled her to her feet. Making gestures as if to assist her with straightening her clothing, Tom’s hands cupped her breasts through her shirt and then cupped her center through the skirt as he kissed her.

She pulled back from him coquettishly. “Oh, no, sir. I’m a good girl.”

“That’s why you will start your lunch detention today. Now.” He pushed her down again into the chair. He removed his belt. She started to her feet. He pushed her back down. “Do I need to restrain you?”

Emma gripped the sides of the chair under her. He wrapped one end of the belt around her wrist and tugged her forward between his thighs. “No, just...tell me what to do?”

“First you will take some simple dictation.” He removed the belt from her wrist and then lowered his pants, revealing his hardened cock wobbling slightly.

Emma grasped the head of his cock with one hand, feeling the sponginess, and smirked. She rolled the head between her fingers, then touched her middle finger to her thumb, gripping tightly as she slid her fist down the shaft only an inch or so before she dragged it back up, outlining the veins starting to appear in relief. She stopped under the mushroom head and began again. Up and down, squeezing and releasing, she worked him. She elongated her strokes until she was massaging the entire length of him, from root to tip and back again. Tom bent forward and captured her lips.

“You are very good, Miss Swan,” he praised against her mouth.

“I told you, sir.” Emma smirked and it came out in her voice.

“Lippy. That should get you another detention.”

“What will I do about my classes, sir?”

“Oh, I intend to let your teacher have a crack at you,” he said. “But I intend to start.” He pushed her head down. “Put those lips to better use.”

She smiled, letting him push her head down until she had her mouth around the top of his cock, she lapped at the pre-cum seeping from his slit and lushly moved her mouth around the head, finding the sensitive spot just underneath and licking it. His cock jerked in her mouth and she smiled. He pushed her head harder, tugging on her pigtails.

She worked him into her mouth inch by inch. He wasn’t so hard yet that his cock made her gag, but she had her mouth full by the time her nose buried in the hair at his groin, and the head filled the top of her throat. She worked her tongue around his shaft and as it twitched, now fully engorged, she backed her head up slowly, finally releasing the tip with a noisy pop.

“I have a better location to take dictation, sir,” she suggested, wriggling her ass on the chair, knowingly leaving a shiny gleam of her own juices on the smooth wood of the chair. The brief stimulation took a tiny edge off her arousal.

Tom helped her up, pulled her against his chest, fondling her breast through the shirt, and kissed her. She straddled his waist, lifting her own skirt as she did so. He grabbed her ass with one hand, and fingered her clit with his other hand. She reached into the pocket of his pants already pushed down on his thighs and retrieved a condom, unrolling it over his shaft with a parting massage. He “thanked” her by pushing a finger inside her and folding it toward her belly, an intimate stroking he knew from experience made her practically drench them both in her juices. He rubbed her fluid over her labia and her clit, then lifted her with both hands under her ass and lowered her onto his cock, as she used her knees on the table to steady herself.

The angle let her rock her clit hard against his root, increasing her stimulation. He rubbed his fingertips over her ass and then down between, circling softly against her puckered hole. She started to pull back. Part of the roleplay. “Sir, I…”

“Yes, Miss Swan?”

“This learning thing is all right,” she said, as a way to convey she was willing to continue.

“No worries, Miss Swan.” He dipped his finger in as she relaxed the muscles. “Mrs. Decker spoke to me earlier about your poor attendance. She stated, and I quote, ‘I am going to have her ass for missing my class’ unquote.”

Emma chuckled as Tom continued to slowly soften the tight ring of muscles with his fingertip. Now she knew what to expect when Trina finally showed herself. She kissed him and murmured, “But you got to fuck me first.”

Tom abandoned her asshole and pulled her hips down hard onto his cock, pushing his hips upward. “What did I say about cursing, Miss Swan?”

 _Oh dear._ Emma gave a worried look as Tom lifted her, pulled out, and then turned her over across the desk. She smiled then as he laid the warm palm of his hand on her ass and shoved his cock back inside her cunt to the hilt. She jumped and clenched when his hand left and came back suddenly with a sharp slap. “Oh!”

He continued to finger her asshole as he slapped the fleshier part of her bottom. His cock pistoned, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back inside to the hilt as her asscheeks grew warmer and redder.

Her cunt clenched his cock as her orgasm sparked. She pushed back into his pelvis and whispered, “Oh. Yes!” He withdrew his finger from her ass and laid that palm on her back as he leaned forward, wrapped his other arm around her hip and fingered her clit until she froze in place. Her cunt milked his cock so he could not hold back any longer. His damp fingers slid up her clenching belly, soothing and softly tugging at a nipple, setting off a secondary wave of pleasure through her body. Tom gripped the base of his condom and pulled out. The slow twitching motion continued to feed small aftershocks for Emma and she pressed her heated flesh into the cool wood of the table, breathing deeply as she felt the waves gradually undulate to stillness. Sex and sweat permeated the air around her and she inhaled deeply.

She felt light as a feather on the air currents and exhaled in contentment.

“Same time tomorrow?” Emma asked, drifting.

Tom chuckled. “I might keep in character a little better if we do this again.”

Emma sighed into the warm palm on her cheek and smiled up at him, enjoying the lassitude and connection.

Then it wasn’t Tom’s voice that broke the ensuing silence. “I see you finally found our truant.”

Emma lifted her head to see Trina walking toward them, studying her laying nearly naked on the table top. The brown eyes were already sparkling with desires that spoke of both bottomless pleasure and heady taboos. Trina was wearing a conservative gray skirt suit, walked on four inch heels that made her hips sway in Emma’s direct line of sight, and in her right hand, rhythmically slapping against the palm of her left, she held a short thick pointer. Emma smiled dopily, as Trina stopped right beside her. The hem of her skirt was easily reached. The pointer smacked the back of her hand, however, when Emma tried to peek beneath.

Shaking the sting out, Emma laid her head down on her right cheek and watched as Tom and Trina enacted the brief transitioning of handing “student Emma” over to Mrs. Decker’s detention.

 

**Scene 3 - Educating Emma**

 

“Now, Miss Swan.” Trina’s voice had always done funny things to Emma’s insides, but the authoritative husk, and the formality of address made Emma’s nipples harden and her clit twitch, begging for attention. She squirmed a little on the seat. She had been put, still without her skirt, back down on the chair, told this was Mrs. Decker’s classroom and she would be given every one of her missed lessons until Mrs. Decker was satisfied. “My classroom, my rules. Do you understand, Miss Swan?”

Emma looked at Trina, still absorbing the stunning appearance of the other woman. She wanted to say the conservative look was hot enough to make any liberal want to switch teams. She opened her mouth. The pointer slapped down on the desk. Emma flinched.

“Answer me. Miss Swan, do you understand?”

“Uh, yeah.” Another slap of the pointer, this one breaking the air next to Emma’s knuckles enough to raise the hair on her arms. “Yes, ma’am,” she self-corrected.

“Good.”

Trina placed a book open on the table but at some distance so that Emma would have to lean over the table in order to read it. “You will complete every lesson I give you, until I am satisfied with your performance.” Emma wondered if there was more spanking involved in this scene. She'd certainly be positioned for it.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You will not skip a single day.”

“No, ma’am.” Emma’s throat heated as Trina lifted her chin with a surprisingly uncharacteristic grip to the touch.

“An education is the key to success, Miss Swan,” Trina said. “Your mind must be nimble and ready to be filled up. If you have any hesitation, this is perhaps not for you, and I will inform Principal Decker you wish to drop out.”

Recognizing her cue, Emma nodded. “I know you only want what’s best for me,” she said meekly.

“I do,” Trina replied, cupping Emma's shoulder. She pulled Emma’s shirt off and told her to bend over the table to “read the book.” Naked, flesh pressing again into the smooth cool wood of the table, Emma bent forward, leaving her feet on the floor. She rested her chin on her crossed hands and scanned the open page. “You will read aloud until I tell you to stop.”

Her palm soothed over Emma’s still slightly reddened ass. Emma hissed a little as the tingle caught her off guard. “Still tender from the principal’s punishment,” Trina said.

It wasn’t toned as a question, but Emma answered it anyway. “Not much.”

A drawer under the table opened. Emma started to turn around. “Start reading,” came the instruction.

Emma started to read as Trina’s hands, slick with warmed lotion, moved over her asscheeks. It really didn’t hurt much, but the tender attention was one of the caring things the Deckers always did in their scenes. Gradually the lotioning became a massaging, from Emma’s lower back down through the thick muscles of her glutes and into the big muscles of her thighs.

 _"They argued with the men over philosophical, sociological, and artistic matters…”_ Emma paused as Trina’s palms shifted to the insides of her thighs, spreading her legs. A faint swat brought Emma’s attention back to her assigned task, and she continued, _“...they were just as good as the men themselves: only better, because they were women.”_

Emma glanced up at the top of the page, surprised by the feminist thought. “What’s this?” She lifted up and checked the cover. “ _Lady Chatterley’s Lover_? D.H. Lawrence?”

“It’s a classic, banned in several countries as pornographic material.”

Placing the book back down on the table, Emma settled back in. “Really? When did you first read it?”

“Six years ago. Found it left behind by an international flight passenger. You know I love books.”

Emma nodded. She was thinking about the words in the book when she felt Trina’s fingers resuming their motion on her thighs, slipping down and inward. Trina brought her back to the scene. “Read, Miss Swan. I believe you will find it enlightening.”

Emma continued to read, the distraction between the words and Trina’s motions doing the most amazing things to her body, responding differently to each stimulus. She lifted her hips, opening herself more to Trina’s attention.

 _“For, of course, being a girl,”_ Emma read, _“one’s whole dignity and meaning in life consisted in the achievement of an absolute, a perfect, a pure and noble freedom.”_

“That’s kind of sarcastic. This guy. When did he write this?” Emma asked.

Trina's hand didn't stop moving. “1928.”

“He doesn’t sound like he believes it’s all good.”

“In 1928, it wasn’t, not for most women. But Connie has something few women get to do: the chance to control her own life.”

“Does it work out?”

“Keep reading.”

Emma looked at the page, thought about Trina’s words, and rolled onto her side. “Mrs. Decker,” she started, making sure Trina understood that she was doing this within their scene. “Why did you become a teacher?”

“I wanted to help young women find what they like and develop the confidence to pursue it.”

Emma reached out and grasped Trina’s hand sliding over her hip. “I like you, and I’d like you to get to know me better.”

“Inside and out?” Trina said, breathing into Emma’s mouth before Emma closed the gap and sealed the deal with a kiss.

“Oh yeah. Teach me, teacher.”

Chuckling, Trina filtered the loose hairs from Emma’s pigtails through her fingers and possessively covered Emma’s lips with her own. As Emma laid back on the table, Trina palmed Emma’s breasts and twisted the nipples, pinching them in turn. Emma writhed and cupped Trina’s hands on her, keeping them in contact.

Trina’s hands left her breasts only to slide down Emma’s belly and her tongue and teeth swirled on the nipples instead. Cupping Trina’s head, Emma arched her body seeking Trina’s. The woman’s hands skimmed down to Emma’s thighs and back up, cradling her hips and then down, parting her thighs and squeezing the muscles there. Emma’s center throbbed at the promise of more to come.

A fingertip dragged through her labia and circled her clit. Emma slammed her hips back against the table and arched again quickly. Trina chuckled in the valley between her breasts.

“You are eager to learn, Miss Swan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Emma breathed out as Trina’s fingers eased inside her. Three fit easily because she was so ready. Trina positioned Emma’s legs over her shoulders, continuing to twist and thrust her fingers in Emma. The drawer opened again. Emma then felt cool cream on Trina’s fingers circling and massaging her asshole.

“Let’s get some of those lessons _inside_ you,” Trina said as she kissed down Emma’s chest to her belly, where the muscles twitched in arousal growing warmer and warmer as fingers circled and swirled, making her body almost blossom open. She arched her back and grasped the table, pushing herself onto Trina’s hands. She was stretching and full, and eager to be fuller, yet so relaxed she could have happily let Trina do this for hours.

“On your stomach, Miss Swan.” Emma was bereft as Trina completely withdrew and stood aside. “Back to your reading.” She flipped the book that had been next to Emma’s head to another bookmarked spot.

Emma rolled upward onto her elbows and stared at Trina. “Are you serious?”

“This is my lesson,” Trina said.

“Um, right.” Emma rolled onto her stomach.

Trina adjusted her legs. “Stand beside the table.” She nudged her foot between Emma’s, opening her stance wider.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her asshole opening steadily under Trina’s attentions, Emma read aloud a scene where Constance, also known as Connie, engages in public anal sex in a competition to win a surfboard. She chuckled as the crowd reacted. She was full the to hilt with Trina’s handheld latex dildo as she gasped in outrage at the result, “She didn’t win? Robbed, I tell you.”

Trina laughed and pumped the dildo steadily as she worked fingers underneath and back into Emma’s cunt. “You would win the prize, for sure,” she said. “Watching you with Tom earlier…”

“Where were you?” Emma asked, gripping the table and panting a little as the stimulation continued to rise.

“Behind the harem curtain,” Trina said. Her thumb brushed Emma’s clit and Emma’s body convulsed hard. “Yeah, that’s what happened to me when you climbed onto his cock. I was masturbating.”

Emma groaned at the mental image of Trina trying to be silent and masturbating as she watched Tom and Emma in the earlier scene. Her mouth watered. “Please.” Sure this wasn’t meant to be part of the scene, but envisioning Trina in her head and on edge, Emma desperately wanted Trina in her mouth.

Trina continued pumping the dildo and twisting her fingers in Emma’s channel. “What do you want?” she asked.

“You, in my mouth,” Emma panted. “Your taste. You…” Emma was rewarded for her desire by Trina once again sliding her thumb along her clit. “Oh, Go….ddd,” Emma panted.

Trina eased out slowly. Emma gasped and twitched at feeling empty. “Roll over, Miss Swan.”

With sloppy quick movements, Emma banged her elbows as she rolled over. The reward, however, was perfection. Trina pulling the dress off over her head, standing in lacy black small cup bra and garters, without underwear. The hairs were damp, evidence of Trina’s arousal, and slicked in places, evidence of her earlier claim to masturbating. Before Emma could whistle appreciatively Trina reclaimed the dildo, clambered onto the table, straddled Emma’s head, and draped herself down Emma’s belly, groin in Emma’s face and hands and mouth returning to Emma’s center.

Emma wasted no time, wrapping her arms around Trina’s hips and pulling her quickly to her mouth. Trina’s own efforts to return to Emma’s center were interrupted by a gasp as Emma’s nose bumped her clit. Emma chuckled and then repositioned quickly and sucked the nerve bundle strongly into her mouth. “Oh, God,” Trina murmured, and her hips ground down onto Emma’s face.

Trina gradually worked the dildo back into Emma’s ass, employing more lubricant, while she sucked on Emma’s folds. Emma interrupted her tonguing of Trina’s slit to moan again in pleasure.

“You are so good,” Trina murmured into Emma’s flesh as Emma swirled her tongue around Trina’s labia and then sucked one side between her lips.

The dildo pushed inside Emma further, and Emma rocked her hips upward, shifting the angle so it would slide deeper still. Trina’s tongue flicked almost daintily at Emma’s clit, but the sensation was so sharp, so sudden, Emma couldn’t stall her orgasm which washed through her in a rush.

She buried her cry in Trina’s cunt, and the other woman’s orgasm wet Emma’s face from lips to chin. She lapped hungrily as Trina’s cry was muffled in her own flesh.

Panting, Emma was surprised to feel Trina trying to move. She held her tighter. “Hey.”

“I’m not leaving,” Trina said, her voice awash with breath. “Just readjusting.” Trina’s hand planted on the table beside Emma’s hip, lifting her chest up a bit from Emma’s belly.

Emma looked down their bodies and found Tom, pants dropped, presenting Trina with a renewed cock in his left fist. Trina guided it into her mouth. Emma watched, enjoying the sight of his cock disappearing into Trina’s mouth. Tom reached below his wife with his right hand. Emma thought he was going to fondle her breasts, only to feel the dildo still in her own ass shift and start moving inward once again.

“Don’t let my arrival interrupt your studies, Miss Swan,” Tom said.

Emma moaned and sighed happily. “Yes, sir.”

Finishing the scene, she returned to lightly licking Trina’s cunt.

“Education is so good, you’re right, Mrs. Decker. But damn.” She paused and blew a slow stream of breath against Trina’s clit. She smiled as Trina’s hips twitched exactly as she knew they would. “It’s really filling. Uh, I mean, fulfilling.”

Trina laughed around Tom’s cock and he chuckled, his shaking shoulders making the dildo in Emma lurch pleasantly. “I’m so glad, Miss Swan.”

“Oh yeah,” she murmured, feeling another slow rolling orgasm ripple through her gut.

 

###

 


	7. Two Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Emma’s first Valentine’s Day with a partner, much less two, so Emma asks Trina and Tom if it’d be all right if she took Trina to a women’s band concert at a club near the college.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little early for a Valentine's Day posting, but I'll be out of town for the weekend itself (going away with my special someones), so I figured I'd share early. 
> 
> Sexual content for this chapter includes: F/F, and M/F, oral sex, blow job, both M/F and F/F 69. Suffice to say LOTS of sex, and romance and intimacy too. Oh, also a little plot: a little green monster appears in Trina's brown eyes.

 

Emma felt the bed dip and opened her eyes in the darkened room. Trina still curled up against her front, Emma’s arm over her side and resting on her belly. Just as she finished registering Trina’s position, Emma felt warm arm slide over her hip and a muscled chest align to her back. She turned her head blindly. “Hey,” she murmured.

“How are my girls tonight?” Tom asked, his voice rumbling soft against her neck as he kept his voice barely audible.

Emma lifted his hand and moved it to join hers on Trina’s side. “Glad to have you home,” Emma whispered back.

He tucked his head into the curve of her shoulder and neck, fitting his hips against hers. His cotton-covered bulge mushed softly against her ass. “Glad to be home,” he sighed. “Made it just in ahead of another storm.”

Trina’s voice rumbled into the darkness. “Tom?”

“I’m home, babe,” Tom said. Emma felt his arm move upward and brush Trina’s shoulder. Emma kissed the back of Trina’s head. Already falling back to sleep, Trina hummed under the attention. Tom’s smile was evident against Emma’s shoulder. “Go back to sleep,” he said.

Emma let her eyes drift closed again, falling back into a dreamland as cozy as being snuggled between Trina and Tom.

* * *

 

“This is wonderful.” Trina inhaled over her coffee cup and the platter Emma had just placed on the table in front of her. The aromas of tomatoes, cheese and eggs added to the air of coffee.

 Emma sat and her smile was bashfully pleased. “This time last year I was sitting alone in an apartment that was little more than a hole in the wall,” she said.

 “You’d have found a way,” Trina said, then took a bite of the Southwest Salsa omelet. She hummed her appreciation, delighting in the blush her sounds brought to Emma’s paler cheeks.

 Emma lifted her coffee mug toward Trina. “A toast to my way. You, and Tom, have shown me how to be part of a loving family.” Trina lifted her mug and clicked the edges together. Her skeptic expression made Emma insist. “You have. I know I’ve been unsure at times, but you didn’t tell me I couldn’t feel unsure, or brushed my feelings aside.” Emma shook her head as Trina put her hand over Emma’s on the table. “I’ve really never had unconditional support like this. It makes me realize just how awful it really was growing up.”

 “You make us sound like parents, Em.”

 “Oh, god, no,” Emma blurted. “I don’t need parents. I like my loving carnal,” she ended on a laugh. “Though I do think you will make amazing parents.”

 Trina shook her head. She and Tom weren’t so sure. Emma was her own person, wonderful and independent, but a child, an infant, would need so much Trina wasn’t certain she knew how to give. Her mother hadn’t always been the most forthcoming, particularly once Trina disappointed her by revealing her “unnatural attractions.”

Emma smiled, however, so Trina tried to believe and said lightly, “Maybe. Someday.”

“I’d like to take you out,” Emma said. “I know you and Tom have plans tonight. I have class anyway, but… would you like to go to a concert with me tomorrow?”

“Just me?”

“It’s an all-woman band at a club near campus.”

“Ah.” Trina chuckled. “Not really Tom’s thing.”

“Yeah.” Emma put her hands in her lap and Trina recognized the nervous move.

Quickly she said, “I’d love to go.”

“It’s seven p.m. tomorrow.”

“That sounds perfect.” Trina laid her hand on Emma’s on her lap.

Emma blushed.

* * *

 

Emma spent the morning taking notes out of her paralegal textbook, working on the couch. Trina came back from running Tom's uniform to the dry cleaner and curled up in the chair opposite, reading a novel.

"Hey, how are my ladies today?" He leaned over the couch and kissed Emma as she looked up and smiled at him. When he straightened he brought forward a bunch of tangerine colored roses, mixed in a bunch with golden yellow daisies, clinging to one of the stems was a tiny golden bear. Emma reached up bashfully with both hands to gather in the flowers to her chest. Trina was smiling softly at her. "Thank you," she whispered to Tom, feeling amazingly special.

He kissed her head. "You're welcome." He crossed the room to Trina and Emma watched him present a bunch of red roses interspersed with purple flowers Emma had learned were gladiolas, Trina's favorites, which had been part of her wedding bouquet.

It was what was under the flowers when he set them on her lap that made Trina squeal with delight. Chocolates with Caribbean rum-soaked cherries in the center. Emma laughed. Tom explained, "I found them on my last trip to Miami."

Trina smacked his shoulder. "You went to Little Havana and didn't invite me along?" Tom laughed easily; Trina was clearly teasing.

"Well, I plan to make it up to you tonight. We're going to Pilsen. I have reservations at La Taberna Tapas."

Trina kissed and then hugged him.

"You guys have a great time," Emma said.

"I thought you and I could see some hockey," Tom said. "I got tickets in the company drawing."

"I'll enjoy that."

"What are you ladies doing?"

"Taking in an all-women’s band tomorrow," Emma said, putting her books aside.

"No testosterone, huh?"

"Testes free," Trina teased. "Right, Em?"

Emma chuckled. "There are times it's very nice."

"Careful. You're gonna give him a swelled head."

"I happen to like Tom’s big head," Emma teased Trina back, obviously eyeing Tom's crotch.

"Well, this head is weak with hunger," he said, tapping his temple. "After that maybe the other head can be of service?"

"I think that can be arranged," Emma said and hopped up from the couch, eager to put something together for their midday meal.

* * *

 

Tom had been raised in a home with very rigid gender roles. Valentine’s Day had been “treat your woman like a queen” day -- even if you were a shithead the rest of the year. Tom tried to avoid the shithead part, but he loved treating Trina extra special. Trina had insisted on a more equal ground of give and take, and Tom found feeling cherished by a woman didn’t make him feel less manly.

Currently being given delicious attention by two gorgeous women, Tom could definitely say it make him feel fantastically fuckingly male. Trina was currently guiding his cock into Emma’s mouth and Emma was enthusiastically taking the head to the top of her throat, bobbing up and down on the shaft, while her talented tongue tapped against the underside of his head where his nerve endings appreciatively fired on all cylinders. His groans felt like they were pulled from his toes, making them curl into the sheets as he tried to keep a grip on reality.

He loved sinking into Trina’s body, feeling almost as equally protected as protecting. But Emma gave the most amazing head. He patted her hip, silently conveying he wanted to return the favor. His cock never leaving her mouth, Emma repositioned and lowered her center over his mouth. He hummed against her clit and was rewarded with a quick grind down onto his face as Emma gasped, her hot breath surrounding his cock. She sucked down on his cock after that and pulled back, the suction delicious and creating a “pop” as she released it. The sensation had made him embarrassingly blow his load several times before he learned to control his response. Emma always looked so pleased when he lost his finesse.

He pulled down on her hips and swirled his tongue on her clit, leaving her writhing on his chest. Trina’s face appeared over Emma’s back, smiling down at him between Emma’s thighs.

“Having fun, flyboy?” Trina asked, almost nonchalant as she massaged Emma’s asscheeks.

The extra stimulation made Emma’s juices soak his chin. He licked deeply into her to catch it all. She shuddered on him again, sucked his cock, and he couldn’t hold back any longer, pushing his hips up, curling his back, and felt the pressure pop, jerking his cock as he came. Emma wrapped him in a firm fist and pumped several more times.

“Trina,” Emma called Trina back to help her suck and lick the cream off his pole, and Tom’s eyes rolled back in his head.

 _Damn it was so good to give and receive_ , Tom thought as the edges of his vision tinted with the loss of pressure to his cock. He sighed happily, Emma’s skin stimulating against his chest as she squirmed in the process of milking him dry. He heard both Trina and Emma’s laughter as they kissed around his cock.

* * *

 

Emma shrugged into her red leather jacket, smiling at the sight of Trina exiting the master bedroom. She whistled and dusted her nails very dramatically on her collar. “I have the hottest date.”

Trina grabbed Emma’s lapels and pressed herself fully into Emma, languidly delivering a tongue kiss that sped Emma’s heart rate and breathing. “I had hoped to hear I am the hottest fucking date you’ve ever had.”

Emma laughed, as always deeply turned on by Trina’s well-placed double entendres. “You are certainly that, but I’m trying to behave. Our company tonight make not appreciate me taking you on the table at the club.”

“How about under the table?” Trina intimated, guiding Emma’s hand under her dress to reveal that she was panty-less.

Emma moaned at the images entering her mind. “You are primed to play tonight,” she said. “Maybe we should stay in?”

“No way. Emma Swan, you are taking me out and fucking me tonight, or so help me I will…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to think up a suitable threat.

Emma lifted her ass under the dress, pulling up Trina to meet her lips in a kiss. “You’ll what? You know I’d love everything you’d do to ‘punish’ me.”

Trina pouted, pushing out her lower lip. “Yeah, I know.”

Emma laughed. “You want a little public display, I’ll find a way to provide. Safely.” She lifted Trina’s coat and held it while she slid her arms inside. Trina pulled Emma’s arms close around her back once she had on the coat.

“Let’s go.” Emma breathed in Trina’s scent and left a kiss on her throat before stepping back and opening the door.

* * *

 

Trina dragged Emma into the bathroom as soon as Emma had paid their cover at the club door. Trina pushed her down onto the toilet seat and quickly shut and locked the stall door before straddling Emma's waist and lifting the bottom of her skirt.

Emma's lap was delightfully full of delectable woman as Trina kissed her and guided her hand between Trina's thighs. Emma didn't need any coaxing; Trina was unbelievably hot and wet.

She sucked on Trina's tongue and curled two fingers quickly inside, prizing the pleased moans breathed into her mouth. When Trina's muscles started pulling at her fingers, Emma turned her fingertips a little. She put her other hand over Trina's mouth and pushed her lover over the edge into orgasm.

* * *

 

They emerged with satisfied smiles on both their faces. Their shoulders bumped as they walked close and Emma reached out, twining their fingers when Trina caught her eye. “C’mon, let’s get some seats,” she said, tugging them toward the left side of the stage.

The crowd was modest but, as Trina had expected, nearly all women. There were a couple males. If Trina was asked to guess, the male patron was gay, sipping on a cosmopolitan and eyeing the rear of one of the waitstaff, the only other male, every time he passed by with a tray of drinks or food.

Emma held her seat for her as they found a small round table empty to the side. The musicians -- the placard by the stage proclaimed them the Chicago Women’s Lib Rock Band”  -- were shifting into another song with the lead guitarist strumming beats back and forth with the drummer as they cued up their next tune.

“This next one is for all the peace lovers out there. Or just lovers,” the lead singer said with a wink that seemed to take in several tables directly in front of the stage. Trina glanced at the patrons and smiled, figuring out quickly that one was a girlfriend of the singer, tucked shyly in jeans and a band t-shirt beside a couple of women who had clearly come directly from work, still in business-style skirt suits.

Emma’s hand slipped over hers on the table top. Through the music, her voice was barely audible. “How’re you?”

“It’s nice music,” Trina said. “You wanna dance?”

“Not right now.” Emma looked around. There wasn’t really ‘dance floor’, but there was a space near their table. The comment was followed by a bit of a nervous squeeze on her fingertips tucked in Emma’s hand.

Trina squeezed lightly back. “Later?”

Emma looked around, then scooted her chair closer to Trina. She caressed Trina’s fingers in her hand as she brought her mouth close to Trina’s ear. “You just want to squeeze my ass in front of all these women.”

Trina chuckled and whispered back, “Yes, I do.”

Emma blushed. Trina’s smile pressed against Emma’s temple in a kiss. Emma was such a wonderful complex young woman, by turns sweet, shy and unsure, and other times bold and daring. Trina loved both sides, finding it fulfilling to be here with her like this, listening to music, holding hands and being together sharing the same experience.

She had known she could love women as well as men since her teen years, but she hadn’t really thought about the different qualities of that love being equally fulfilling until she met Emma. She honestly believed she loved Emma as deeply and as complexly as she loved Tom, finding herself able to be completely herself with both of them. All the time.

She leaned her head against Emma’s shoulder as the band’s next song selection slowed to romantic. Emma kissed the top. Trina traced the lines and shape of Emma’s fingers in her hand.

“I love you,” Trina said.

Two drinks were placed in front of them. “We didn’t order…”

“Already paid for,” the waitress said, her blue eyes shining in the low light. “By the ladies over there.” She gestured toward another table. A pair of women sat close together almost mirroring Emma and Trina. One blonde and one brunette, they both had shoulder-length hair salon-styled in the current curled fashion. They were dressed in what could be called “cowgirl chic,” leather vests and blue and red plaid-style button shirts. Each lifted matching drinks as Emma and Trina found their gaze.

Trina pursed her lips, pushing them up at the corners in a forced smile. Emma lifted their glasses, placing one in her hand. Trina followed Emma’s example, lifting the glasses in silent thanks. She held her glass to her lips without drinking, instead watching Emma drink. Then she turned back to face the stage, shifting her body. She didn’t drink from the glass, fingers sliding instead in the condensation at the bottom.

Emma put down her glass. “This was really nice of them. Should we send something back?”

Trina shook her head. “No.” She couldn’t keep the curt hurt out of her tone.

“Wouldn’t it be polite?” Emma sounded surprised.

Trina clarified, “Only if we are planning to add them to our lovemaking later.” She tried to keep the question out of her tone at the end. Emma however immediately understood.

Eyes wide, Emma said, “Oh. No.” She looked at her now-empty glass. “I shouldn’t…”

Trina covered Emma’s hand now doing the same as hers earlier, slipping in the condensation on the side. “Em, it’s all right.”

“But I don’t. I get coffees sent over after class a lot when I come here to study.”

“Those two women?” Trina scanned toward the table again. Neither was looking at them now, instead their heads were bent together, talking quietly. She looked at Emma who nodded. “They’ve been coming on to you.”

“And by accepting the drinks, I’ve been encouraging.” Emma sounded furious; Trina knew it was self-directed. Emma set her drink on the far side of their table, then took Trina’s and did the same. “I want no confusion. I’m here with you.”

The definitive tone warmed Trina. She felt it necessary to say, “Sometimes it’s just harmless flirting.”

“They’ve never talked with me. Otherwise I’d have let them know I’m not interested.” Emma started to her feet.

Trina grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going over there right now and tell them.” Emma’s face was flushed with anger.

Trina followed Emma over to the other table where Emma put the glasses down. “Thanks for the drinks, but we’re on our own,” Emma said.

The brunette of the seated couple looked up and smiled. “Name’s Beth,” she said. “What’s yours?”

Emma was caught off guard and manners made her answer, “Emma.”

“Did you enjoy the drinks? We don’t often get in those who enjoy Lady Slippers.”

“They were fine,” Trina said. “But we prefer to order our own drinks.”

“Is that what you like? Emma?” asked the blonde now.

“You’re the one who’s been sending over the coffee when I’m studying.”

The blonde nodded. “I’ve seen you around campus. I’m a graduate student.”

“OK. So let me be clear.” Emma leaned forward; Trina stepped back allowing her lover to make herself look bigger and more imposing with her arms widespread, hands planted flat on the table as she looked at first one woman then the other, directly in the eye. “I’m not interested.”

“I see,” said the brunette, eyes widening. Then, making her expression quickly neutral, she turned to Trina. “You’re very lucky.”

“Thanks.” _No poaching_ , Trina thought, hoping the demand showed in her fierce gaze. She heard her own tone, felt her own tensed muscles and was surprised. She was supposed to be open to sharing. Emma turned toward her and quickly Trina offered a smile for her lover.

“Now that’s all settled,” Emma said. “Let’s dance.” Trina glowed with unmistakable triumph as Emma wrapped her arm around Trina's waist.

Emma pulled Trina into her body as they walked to the space before the stage and reveled in the feel of the other woman’s soft curves melting against her own. She held Trina’s hand on her shoulder, and rested the other hand on the curve of Trina’s ass, just above indecent. She nosed into Trina’s throat and narrowed her eyes at the women looking their way once again. She kissed Trina’s jaw, smiled at the hum vibrating through her lover’s throat, and closed her eyes, holding Trina even closer.

They swayed mostly in place to the tune and Trina’s hand gradually drifted down from Emma’s shoulder to wrap around her back, hugging her securely.

* * *

 

Emma helped Trina out of her coat when they got home. Dancing together through the remaining songs by the band, Emma and she had both decided they wanted to dance more intimately between the sheets. When the other couple got up and started dancing nearby, Trina’s, and Emma’s, stomach for public display fled and they’d agreed it was time to go home.

Just barely inside the doorway to the house, Trina asked, “Where?” Her hands were already removing layers of Emma’s clothing, her red jacket already off her right arm.

Emma tossed the coat aside, helping Trina out of hers, and Emma unzipped Trina’s dress before Trina silently sank to her knees on the hallway floor, kissing the tops of Emma’s thighs. Emma stepped out of the pants pulled down to her ankles. She stood and parted Emma’s top, button after button, kissing the skin of her chest as it became revealed.

“Where do you want?”

“Your bed,” Trina said.

“It’s kinda small.”

“You took me out. You take me home.”

Emma tugged on Trina’s shoulders. She rose and met Emma’s lips in many kisses, their tongues and lips slipping and tangling together, increasing Trina’s ardor. “Do you want to get anything from your room?” Emma breathed against her mouth.

“I have all I need right here,” Trina said, dancing her fingertips down Emma’s muscled arms and up the side of her ribs, skimming the underside of her breasts. Emma’s nipples were already stiffening when Trina’s fingertips reached the peaks. Emma’s breathing deepened as she led Trina to her bedroom.

Once they were inside Emma's room, Trina took a look around, noticing it still held very little of Emma’s personality. The walls were mostly bare, except for shadow boxes of keepsakes that Trina had hung from her and Tom’s travels. Emma did have a stack of school books on the corner of a small table next to a stack of plain paper. A secondhand typewriter dominating the center of the table had a piece of paper still tucked into the roller. A wooden stool Emma obviously used as a seat was tucked under the table.

A picture print of the three of them at Christmas curled together before the fireplace lay on Emma’s nightstand. It wasn't framed, but it was angled in such a way that she knew Emma looked at it before dropping off to sleep. Trina sat down on the top of the made bed, hips touching Emma’s. She turned her body into Emma's and cupped her cheek. Gradually they laid back, Emma coaxing Trina to roll on top of her, their legs settling around each other, breasts pillowing. Trina crossed her arms over Emma’s shoulders, holding her head up as they intimately tasted one another’s mouths with leisurely and languorous kisses.

Emma’s heart thumped strongly in her chest under Trina’s arms, and her hands were warm and soft as they massaged up and down Trina’s body, from between her shoulders, down her back and, finally, lingering over her ass. Trina hummed happily into Emma’s mouth when her lover’s fingertips traced the dimples at the crest of her hips.

Feeling the urge to grind against Emma, Trina gave in to it. She parted her thighs and rolled her center over Emma’s hard muscled thigh. The slow pace seemed to be suiting them both. Emma only slightly bent her thigh and readjusted her arm so that the fingertips of one hand dipped between Trina’s legs from behind and stroked at the inside. Then, ever so gradually, Emma's fingers sought Trina's center.

“Emmmmm….” Trina’s voice trailed away and she rolled her hips, circling her center on Emma’s thigh, increasing the pressure against her swollen clit. Emma cupped one hand behind Trina’s head and stroked the other down Trina’s belly to her center. While Emma nipped and plied her lips with her own, she warmly stroked Trina’s clit. Soon rolling her hips was uncontrollable, and she was gasping in Emma’s mouth as often as she was making half-sounds in her throat, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling the edge approaching.

Emma’s voice encouraged her. “There, that’s… just a little… more… mmm… hmmm… yeah, Trina, go ahead...come on, babe.” Emma’s mouth moved to Trina’s ear. “Oh, so, so wet. Yeah, just a little… like that….mmm…”

Trina’s orgasm washed through her, from the center of her pussy, rolling outward, making her belly throb and her arms shakes and her fingertips tingle. She grasped onto Emma’s arms while the blonde continued to massage her center, broader movements now, over the hood, into her folds. Trina swallowed, trying to wet her mouth at the same time as she was panting hard.

Emma murmured into her shoulder, “I love being able to give you pleasure.” She rolled Trina to her side. Emma lifted her hand to her lips and slowly sucked Trina’s essence from her fingers, their gazes never breaking.

“Just being with you gives me pleasure, Em. I had a really good time tonight.”

Trina kept a leg over Emma’s own, hand lightly drifting down the soft plain of Emma’s stomach a little damp with sweat, and muscles quivering with arousal. When Emma tenderly moved aside locks of her hair moistly stuck to her face, Trina lowered her head, breaking the gaze, and kissed the side of Emma’s breast closest to her mouth. Trailing her fingers and drawing nonsensical patterns on Emma’s addictively soft skin, Trina gradually circled lower, entering Emma, and watching and feeling Emma arch and moan and roll as Trina attended to her pleasure.

When the blonde was panting, half-coherent with _please_ and _more,_ _Trina_ and _oh gods,_ Trina sucked the near nipple between her teeth and chewed as she turned her finger, curved it and brushed against the slightly rough patch just inside Emma. The woman’s back arched entirely off the bed, and her mouth opened in a surprised ‘O’. Emma rolled on her shoulders and her hands clutched at Trina as she came with a cry.

As Emma quieted, Trina slid down between the blonde’s thighs, bending shaking legs at the knees and cradling them between her arms as she put her mouth to Emma’s center and languidly sucked and licked through several more tremors.

###


	8. Spring Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of March, Emma’s college is closed for Spring Break. Tom and Trina have planned a warm, sexy vacation. The trio heads for Florida fun in the sun, and celebrates one year together.

Emma suspiciously eyed the green beer as Tom passed her the mug from the beefy man tending the bar’s taps. “You sure about this?”

“It’s tradition,” he replied, sipping from his own iced mug.

“And they pour dye in the river too?”

“Yeah, we’ll check it out later. Go on. Drink,” Tom said.

“Does it taste minty?” The green was enough to put her in mind of a mint jelly. Emma curled her lip.

“God, no! Dive bars do that, adding creme de menthe or shit. This is just food coloring.”

Lifting the mug to her lips, Emma sniffed. No mint. She took a cautious sip. Definitely still beer. She nodded as she lowered the mug. “All right.”

“Now, drink up. It’s mandatory to get drunk today.”

“I thought it was a saint’s holiday. Weren’t those guys teetotalers or something?”

“Who the hell cares,” Tom said. “Bonsai!”

“I think that’s Japanese,” Emma laughed. She heard a nearby pair toast and click their mugs. She echoed them, “Slan-cha,” she said in a close approximation.

Tom smiled at her and clinked his mug against hers.

Emma laughed, but then she drank. She loved giving Tom a hard time like this, when they were out buddying up to a bar, or taking in a hockey game. Trina joined them for baseball, but a good old-fashioned bar hop, or adrenaline-filled hockey game was Emma’s time with Tom.

The jukebox at this bar, Shinnick’s Pub, was rolling out Irish tunes, drinking songs and ballads were coming from the patrons in every corner. Tom wasn’t any more Irish than Emma, who knew nothing of her parents or family heritage, but beer, singing and laughing? These were their ideas of celebration.

The two of them leaned side by side against the bar, sipping their beers and watching a pair of college boys play beer pong. Tom’s shoulder shifted against hers.

She looked up. He leaned in as they watched the redhead freckle-faced one of the two chug his beer to his buddies’ triumphant yells and cheers. “Hey, you have a break coming up next week from your classes, right?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.”

“Let me take you to Florida,” Tom said.

“What?”

“Spring break, y’know? Fun in the sun. Florida.”

“Florida?” Emma felt a pit form in her stomach. Florida meant Tallahassee. “Um, Florida?” She couldn’t seem to restart her thoughts beyond that point; they had stalled on the possibilities.

“Yeah. There’s a resort down there. On the gulf.” Tom rubbed her shoulder; she realized he was searching her face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You okay?”

“I…I…Is it anywhere near Tallahassee?”

“No, this place is on the coast. I’ve got a flight into Mobile, and we’ll rent a car. It’s a beach town called Panama City.”

Emma exhaled and calmed herself, taking a sip from her beer. “Isn’t that expensive?”

“Flights this time of year can be,” he admitted, but then he shook his head. “Good thing I work for an airline.” Tom searched her face again; Emma pulled her lips into a shaky smile. He kissed her. “So, you wanna go? It’s warmer than here.”

Emma looked outside. It was March and there was still snow on the ground here in Chicago. “Is the weather good?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s already in the 70’s.”

“All right.”

“Cool. Trina’s looking forward to taking you shopping. We’re leaving Sunday, coming back Friday.” He put his empty mug on the bar top.

“That’s quite a vacation.” Emma put her half-empty mug down next to his.

His hand covered hers against the polished wood. “It should be. It’s our anniversary."

Emma’s face drained of heat. “You and Trina should go alone then.”

“No, _our_ anniversary.” His fingers rubbed hers. “Don’t you remember the first time we all got together? Trina’s and my wedding anniversary is in June.”

 _A year?_ Emma was shocked. _I've been part of Trina and Tom’s lives for a whole year? God damn._ _What was that saying? Time flies when you’re having fun?_ She looked up, finding his blue eyes smiling at her.

Tom’s arms came around her as she crashed into his chest, overwhelmed by the gesture, by his smile, by... everything. Hot tears slid down her cheeks. “Fuck,” she breathed around sobs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He kissed her head and moved his hands soothingly on her back, murmuring around gentle chuckles. “We can do lots of that on the beach trip. I promise.”

Emma pressed a weak fist into his stomach and then fisted her other hand against his chest, trying to get a grip on herself. Choking back on a half-sob, half-laugh, she forced out barely a whisper. “Thank you.”

Against her head, in a gentle impossibly understanding tone, Tom said, “You’re welcome, Emma.”

She let him hug her tighter.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, this’ll be cute,” Trina said, pulling a sunset orange bikini bathing suit from the rack at the department store. Emma couldn’t immediately see how it would be held up over her modest assets, until Trina fingered the thin spaghetti straps that would tie around her neck. Their basket held an already dizzying array of spring wear, shorts, blouses and summer dresses. They were only going away for four days, but Trina seemed determined to buy Emma an entirely new wardrobe. ****

“Go put it on.”

“I’ve never worn anything like this,” Emma said.

“She can go in and help you fit yourself, dear,” the matronly sales associate said, not even really looking at them.

Emma caught Trina’s eyes twinkling with mischief. Emma took the key from the sales associate and walked down the narrow corridor where doors hid away tiny little dressing rooms. “I can try it on myself,” Emma said over her shoulder. “These look kinda cramped for two.”

Trina shook her head and guided Emma’s hand to the last door on the left. “It’ll be perfectly fine.”

The door latched behind Trina and Emma caught the small sound of the latch being locked. Emma set down her coat and started to unbutton her shirt. Trina helped her push it from her shoulders, briefly trapping Emma’s arms behind her back and stealing a kiss since they were nose to nose. Emma felt the kiss deep in her belly and moaned.

Trina smiled as she trapped the sound against Emma’s lips. Then she pulled back and teased Emma’s nipples with her fingertips. “Sh, you’ve got to be quiet. We don’t want Miz Matronly to come investigating any sounds.”

Feeling Trina squeeze her breasts meaningfully, Emma moaned, laughed, and sighed, happily at the mercy of Trina’s wicked sense of humor. Emma bit her lip to keep in the next moan that tried to escape as Trina brushed their bodies together as she reached behind Emma and removed her bra. Emma stuffed her hands in her mouth to stifle sounds when Trina nipped and then sucked at each breast’s tip hardening in the air-conditioned air of the store. The sensations were going directly to Emma’s center, and by the smirk on her lips, Trina knew it. Emma’s hips jerked toward her lover uncontrollably.

Sitting on the tiny corner bench, Trina guided Emma forward by the hips, until she stood between Trina’s knees. Trina unsnapped Emma’s jeans, pulling down underwear along with the denim.

“I think I’m supposed to keep those —”

Emma’s whisper was silenced by her biting her own lip to restrain a moan when Trina’s fingers then her tongue toyed with Emma's clit. Emma slapped the wall before remembering where they were and instead slapped both her hands over her mouth. “Mmmffff!” she groaned.

Making pleased sounds, Trina smiled into Emma’s flesh and changed the licks to languid strokes, keeping Emma on edge and building her pleasure more slowly.

Pulling thick dark hair between her fingers, Emma fought to stay grounded, even though her knees were shaking. “Trina,” she whispered, barely managing both syllables before she was breathless.

“Sit down, Em.”

Trina helped Emma to switch places so Trina now stood above Emma who sank to the bench. An unmistakably hungry look in her brown eyes, Trina lowered to her knees and spread Emma’s thighs with long massaging strokes. Then her mouth returned to Emma’s sex. Two fingers joined Trina’s tongue just as Emma felt the need to clench something.

Resting her head against the dressing room wall, Emma brushed her fingers through Trina’s hair, over her cheeks, and along her shoulders, wanting to communicate her pleasure without sounds. Though unintelligible sounds of desire and want still fell from her lips with soft frequency, she wanted to convey her jumbled feelings to the other woman.

Trina captured one hand and, with just one squeeze, Emma felt calm finally settle within her mind.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma felt tears leaking from beneath her lashes. Opening her eyes again, she felt Trina lifting her chin. Fingers continued moving below and Emma held Trina’s gaze. That warm cocoa color became her whole world just as she came.

Emma’s orgasm was visceral for all that it was a gentle, gushing physical release. It was also soft and made her feel like she was floating, like the waters of a brook were tripping over her body. She almost thought she heard the sound of the water in her ears.

Capturing one of Emma’s hands, Trina gently tugged as she laced their fingers together. Emma squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears leaking hotly over her cheeks. Fingers resumed moving within her and Emma held Trina’s gaze, that warm cocoa color becoming her whole world as she came again.

Trina sat back on her heels, She smiled and licked Emma’s fluids from her fingers. Emma coaxed her up, gesturing her onto her lap. Seeking her mouth now close by, Emma massaged Trina’s knees apart, sliding a hand up between parting thighs.

Her fingers were squeezed as she rocked and twisted them inside. Trina came silently. The only sign of exertion was the rapidly ticking pulse in Trina’s throat. Emma kissed it. Trina stifled a moan behind her hand and Emma smiled against the skin.

After a few moments just snuggling, Emma licked clean her own fingers. She straightened, pulling her fingers through her disarrayed hair. Trina retrieved her shirt. Standing together they replaced their clothing. Emma reached over and picked up the sunset orange bikini. “Do I really need this?” she asked.

“I’d rather you wear nothing at all,” Trina murmured against Emma’s mouth.

“Is that an option?” Emma asked.

Trina smiled. “Actually, it is.”

Emma returned the bathing suit when they emerged from the dressing room. The sales associate looked askance at them as Emma put the hanger on the reshelf rack. “Not what you wanted?” she asked.

“Turns out, I already have what I need,” Emma said. With a hand to the small of Trina’s back, she guided Trina toward the cashier to pay for their other purchases.

Bags in hand a few minutes later, Emma and Trina caught the El back home.

 _Home._ Even as she thought it, Emma felt a shiver go down her spine. She looked at Trina’s profile as they stood tucked together in the middle of the train. The long lashes dipping periodically against her cheeks, the soft cadences of her throat as she breathed. Emma swallowed with awareness. This was what it felt like to want forever. This feeling that one place, one person, could be everything.

Trina turned slightly and caught her gazing. Behind their bags, she took Emma’s hand. “Happy anniversary,” she whispered.

Emma felt dizzy and squeezed Trina’s hand back. Something crumbled a little in her chest. The hardness that had built up as a result of her life, people coming and going, people insisting that some new place was “home” only for the settled calm to never materialize, that hardness began breaking apart. Emma looked out of the El windows at the skyline of Chicago rushing past and she felt Trina lean into her body, looking out, forward, with her.

* * *

 

“I told you there’s a reason it’s called the cockpit,” Trina teased Emma. The brunette sat on Tom’s lap with her halter dress bunched at her waist His pants were open, and his cock had been pulled through his underwear. He lifted his hips and worked his thickness up into his wife. The two had gotten permission to take Emma on a tour into the cockpit of a 717 being serviced as they came through the cargo area to the international airport.

Emma leaned against the console, her sundress skirt pulled up as Tom fingered her. She had been fingering herself watching Tom fuck Trina when Tom told her he wanted to. She glanced forward out of the plane’s windshield. They had a view of several gantries inside the service hangar, but the hangar, like the rest of the airport at three in the morning, was empty. Emma, Tom and Trina had standby seats on a five a.m. flight to Mobile, courtesy of  Tom’s employment perks.

Emma thought she rather liked _this_ perk, as Trina’s hand joined her husband’s. Both husband and wife fingered Emma as Trina leaned forward and nibbled on Emma’s lips. None of them was naked, but the eroticism of feeling Trina bouncing on Tom’s cock, rubbing up against Emma at the same time, with both his and her fingers curling together inside her trying to reach that spot had Emma nearly out of her mind.

She braced her hands behind her on the console, pushing her hips forward over and over again. Knobs shifted under her fingers. She repositioned her hands and finally found a relatively dial-free space, using the leverage to rock up and down on her lovers’ hands.

Trina threw her head back, baring her throat. The cockpit lighting shined on her damp skin and Emma felt her arousal ratchet even higher.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned, feeling the tingling start in her belly. She continued to rock on fingers and fought to keep her eyes on Trina. Brown eyes crinkled indulgently. “More?” Trina asked; almost mindless, Emma nodded. Their one finger each became two fingers each. The muscles of her cunt spasmed, loosened, and pulled them deeper.

Tom groaned and his fingers left Emma briefly bereft. Then Trina’s fingers inside her multiplied, replacing the loss of fullness. Emma opened her eyes when Trina gasped.

She could see that Tom had grabbed Trina’s hips, pulling his wife with more firm force down onto his upward thrusts. “Oh, god, yeah,” Tom breathed; Trina’s gasps became moans. Her four fingers in Emma rotated and curled at the same time she braced her other hand on the console, leaning forward as Tom stood from the chair.

“Kiss me,” Trina breathed.

Emma balanced her weight onto one hand on the console and then cupped the back of Trina’s head, pulling their faces together to claim the woman’s mouth in a deep kiss.

Trina gave Emma every sensation back through her fingers and mouth. They cried out together, stimulated to the same degree, and then Emma couldn’t hold back any longer, feeling her groin convulse. She froze as Trina’s thumb prodded her clit. “Oh, god," she groaned long and slow. 

Tom’s rapid breathing hitched once and then he groaned, long and low, signaling his orgasm followed closely after. 

Emma trailed her kisses away from Trina’s mouth, tasting the warm, sweat-damp skin of the other woman’s throat. Her head dropped to Emma’s shoulder, chest heaving, lips panting, with the aftermath of her own orgasm.

Gently, they stroked their fingers through each other’s hair as Tom leaned across Trina’s shoulder. Emma kissed Tom, smiling into his mustache.

* * *

 

They arrived at the Panama City Beach resort around noon, tired and worn from the three hour drive from Mobile following the two and a half hour flight from Chicago. Trina took the key from the shaggy brunette middle-aged bellman wearing too-tight shorts. She nudged him aside from Emma, who leaned tiredly on the wall next to the door. He had been trying to chat up the blonde since the lobby and she clearly was uninterested.

“Thanks,” she said, unlocking the door and tossing the key at Tom. “Tom, if you’d handle the bags. Em and I are gonna freshen up.”

Tom caught the key as well as the quick shake of her head that she meant as “get rid of him, he’s annoying Emma.” “No problem,” he said, acknowledging both tasks.

As she wrapped her arm around Emma’s shoulders and guided her inside the suite, then to the bedroom, she heard him direct the young man brusquely where to set down the bags, give him a sharp thump on the back and send him on his way.

The door to the suite closed as she sat with Emma on the bed. She nudged Emma’s shoulder with her own. “There. You look beat. You wanna just rest this afternoon?”

Emma looked around. “It’s a really nice place.”

“We have four days. No reason to see it all right now.”

“You ladies all right?” Tom poked his head in.

“Been a long day of traveling, I think,” Trina said, holding Emma’s hand on her lap. “Nap?” she asked, looking from Tom to Emma.

Tom nodded. “It was a long drive.”

Trina noticed that Emma remained quiet. “Em,” she decided. “Would you hold me?”

Emma instantly straightened. “Yea. Yes, I’m... “ She shook herself. “In here?”

“I’ll take the other bedroom,” Tom said.

“No, sweetheart, this bed’s big enough.” Trina patted the surface. It was a queen. The fit would be tight, but she had a feeling that was what Emma needed; she was looking a little shell-shocked.

She got to her feet along with Emma, kicking off her shoes and slipping out of her sundress easily. Emma fumbled with her jeans. In her panties only, Trina brushed aside Emma’s hands and helped as Tom walked around behind Emma, pulling his shirt off. He reached around Emma’s chest, sliding his hands over her bikini underwear and up under her tank top, lifting it away from her breasts and over her 

Trina felt Emma’s muscles melt when she wrapped her arms around her from the front, kissing her as she coaxed Tom’s body to mold to Emma’s back. He kissed Emma’s nape and shoulders, while Trina shifted to kissing Emma’s bare chest. She moved backward, onto the bed, guiding Emma forward as she sat up on her knees. “We’re here, Em.”

“I know,” Emma said, and Trina knew she did.

She had read Emma’s tension the minute they crossed the border from Alabama, and she had seen the sign marking 200 miles to Tallahassee. It was irrational to think that the man who had abandoned Emma would somehow be in that city, but the damage he had inflicted, leaving Emma to take a theft rap and endure a pregnancy alone, had indelibly marked the young woman.

She guided Emma onto her back on the bed, both she and Tom working in concert to lovingly strip her, and themselves, of clothing, until the three of them lay skin to skin, Emma in the middle, snuggled safe and protected by them both. Emma’s hand held Tom’s against her belly, his arm across her hip, and rested her head on Trina’s chest over her heart. She could feel her heartbeat thudding gently under Emma’s head. Meeting Tom’s eyes, she caught his nod.

“Sleep well, Emma,” she murmured into the woman’s thick hair, planting a kiss amid the blonde strands.

* * *

 

Feeling a cool breeze shifting against her skin, Emma opened her eyes, lifting a hand to shade them further from the waning sun. The beach umbrella they had set up after coming in from splashing in the low-rolling waves was no longer blocking the sun.

She turned her head under the floppy wide-brimmed hat and studied Trina laying on her belly on the next beach lounge. Tom was massaging lotion into the muscles of Trina’s legs, moving upward slowly. The round globes of her ass were only a barely lighter shade than her legs, a testament to her Latina heritage.  There was no tan line at all on her back. Her thick hair hid her face buried in the curve of her elbow, as she rested her head on her arms.

Trina was humming in pleasure at Tom’s touch. Emma had enjoyed Tom’s application of lotion to her own nude form when they first got out to the sand. If Trina was getting a reapplication, they had to have been laying here for at least an hour. She turned onto her side, pushing herself up with her hand. “Been an hour, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tom said. “You want to cover up?”

She lifted her feet from the lounge and set them in the sand, bringing her body slowly upright. “Yeah.” She took the wrap Tom held out to her, and set it around her bare shoulders, tying it off at her waist as she stood up.

“Burned?” Trina said, her voice coming from beneath her arm.

“No, but not all of have been blessed with olive skin that just bronzes the longer we stay out,” Emma said, reaching across the space and stroking the darkened skin of Trina’s shoulder.

“We can find some supper,” Trina said, pushing onto her hands.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tom said as he got to his feet.

Emma noticed he also already tanning, his white shorts starkly contrasting with his legs and back. He pulled a Hawaiian print short sleeve shirt over his back, leaving the front unbuttoned. Trina shrugged into a top she tied off under her breasts.

Tom circled around Emma, easing aside the wrap, pressing his fingers to check her color. “You’re okay,” he assured her.

“Thanks.” She kissed his cheek and Trina linked their arms with herself between Tom and Emma. The warm supple body brushing hers and walking beside her turned her mind to mush. She thought of how loving and supportive Trina and Tom had been, not just today, but ever since she had met them.

“I think I’m hungry for a sandwich,” she said, circling and brushing herself against Trina’s front, kissing her when she lifted her eyes.

Trina laughed into her mouth. Pulling back, she said, “Why do I have the sneaking suspicion you’re not talking food?”

“You know me pretty well,” Emma teased. “Let’s eat and then… I believe we came here to celebrate an anniversary?” Emma looked significantly to Tom who kissed Trina’s temple.

###

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mid-point pause. Part 2 of this story will be up as soon as possible. Life got in the way of finishing it in time. ~ LZ


	9. Spring Break part deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of introspection and playtime (that's not all sexual; though there is a lot of sex too) continues during Trina, Tom and Emma's "one-year together" vacation to Florida.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I offer my abject and humblest apologies for dropping out so long on this story series. I hope you find this extra long conclusion to the Spring Break "episode" is a decent reward for your patience and support.

Trina arched and rolled her hips, inhaled Emma's tongue kiss as she rocked on Tom's mouth sucking on her labia and clit. Emma's fingers grasped at Trina's knees and then she ended their kiss to gasp, rocked on Tom's cock pushing up inside her.

Aware of the skill of her husband, Trina laughed in enjoyment of the pleasure she knew coursed through Emma's lush frame. She grasped Emma's hands and then had to gasp herself when Emma's head, falling forward, pressed into her breast and her teeth pulled at Trina's tight and sensitive nipple. "Oh!" she clasped Emma's shoulders.

Tom's tongue swirled around Trina's clit and he held her hips in place. Trina was consumed by the competing sensations of Tom's and Emma's attentions on her body. Already pleasantly orgasming several times during this pleasurable session, she nevertheless felt her stomach muscles contract, signalling the start of another. Hugging Emma's head to her breast, and arching to somehow push closer to Tom's delightfully attentive mouth, Trina caught the brush of his mustache briefly on her clit and came. Throatily she exulted in the rushing sensations, "Uh, oh, yessss."

Emma's laugh skittered on Trina's breast, setting off a secondary flush of pleasure.  She sighed with it and groaned as Tom's tongue moved once too many times on her now-overstimulated center. His hands left her hips and rubbed her back, supporting her as she slid off his head and curled.

Trina laid back on the pillows, to recover and watch. Tom's hands moved to Emma's hips. When the blonde leaned back against his raised thighs, he brought one hand to Emma's center and skimmed his thumb over her clit. She gasped and began to rock and roll her hips, seeking the perfect pressure and angle.

Tom's head went back and he started thrusting erratically. Trina stroked her belly, enjoying her own tremors as she watched Tom and Emma achieve their own peaks.

Emma flowed down atop Tom, head resting on his chest. Trina curled into his shoulder and kissed Tom and then Emma. The blonde's contented sigh was audible as Tom's hand gently stroked her back. Trina cupped Emma's upraised cheek. The shadows were gone. For now.

# # #

The late afternoon sun through the west-facing hotel window warmed Trina’s naked skin where she snuggled against Emma’s back. The blonde dozed on her side. Tom had tucked a sheet around them when he slipped out to find them some food to recharge. Trina studied Emma’s gently rising and falling chest, and her chest tightened with the joy of the simple pleasure.

After kissing the back of Emma’s neck Trina laid back and walked the fingers of her right hand up Emma’s exposed arm and onto her shoulder. A come hither tap and Emma moved fluid as watered silk and turned over. Their bodies aligned and intertwined.

“I thought you were done,” Emma teased, nipping at Trina’s lips, cupping the back of her shoulders and neck.

“Always up for more of you.”Trina threaded her fingers into the fall of Emma’s golden hair down her back as she welcomed lips on her cheek and throat. Emma moved lower and lavished attention on Trina’s breasts until she was squirming. Teeth and tongue tugged, awakening paths of sensation directly to Trina’s center. She moaned.

Emma’s breathy laugh vibrated against Trina’s skin and skittered across her nipple. Her center throbbed and she opened her mouth to ask for pressure, only to feel smooth firm fingertips sliding between her labia and massaging her clit. An even more urgent desire ignited, rocking her hips up into the languorous stroking.

“Yessss,” she breathed into Emma’s ear, pulling the woman down against her and riding her moving hand. “Em,” she groaned, pressing her arm more tightly around her lover’s shoulders, hips rising and turning to meet the rhythm being set. She flexed her hands and fingers, grasping at Emma. The other woman’s body surged and rocked in an answering rhythm against hers.

Wetness warmed her thigh and she pressed her knee upward, giving in to laughter, utter joy at the passion they were giving and taking in each other. Emma groaned throatily and chuckled against Trina’s ear. “You are fucking amazing.”

Emma’s fingers slipped into Trina, ratcheting her passion impossibly higher. Trina swore floridly in Spanish, trying to catch her breath, and tasted sweat as she bit her upper lip.

“I love when you let go like this,” Emma whispered hotly in her ear, again stroking a spot inside that curled Trina on herself, an orgasm catching her off-guard.

“You. Do.” The edges of Trina's awareness were fading. “So. Well.” Emma did something then, a turn of her fingers, a tap of her thumb, and Trina’s body stretched out, as the orgasm exploded her from inside out. “Em!”

Trina felt Emma buck, then freeze, squeezing her legs around Trina’s thigh. Then she heard Emma’s cry of fulfillment though the young woman tried to stifle it against her collarbone.

“Sweet, sweet Em,” Trina whispered, stroking Emma’s hair in the quiet aftermath listening to their soft panting. Emma’s breath caressed Trina’s chest. She closed her eyes just counting their heartbeats, feeling Emma’s throbbing against her side while her own pounded in her throat.

“Anyone up for more traditional sweets?”

Trina laughed and rolled over Emma, pinning her arms above her head against the mattress. She eyed her husband’s shorts and noticed the bulge. “How long were you watching?” she asked.

“I believe your exact words were _Tócame, así como así, oh, sí, me empuje, sobre._ ” He laughed. “She really hit your spot.”

Trina nipped at the blonde's smugly grinning lips before letting her up. They joined Tom around the small hotel table where he was unpacking the contents of a couple paper bags.

###

That night the trio went to the on-premises restaurant where a comedy act was promised. Following supper and still sipping on a fruity Florida wine, Emma leaned on Tom's left shoulder. Trina leaned across Tom to whisper to Emma about the comic’s lacking delivery. Tom had to admit the man was almost painfully unfunny. But Emma loved this sort of thing: doing simple activities together, and Tom hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“We can go,” Emma said. He heard the note of disappointment in her voice. “You’re probably bored out of your mind.”

“He’s okay,” Tom replied. “But even you’re not laughing as much as I’d like to see.”

Emma stood. “We can go if you want.”

Trina’s sheath dress slid along his palms when she moved past him and linked her elbow with Emma’s. He followed the women from the club out into the balmy evening.

Looking around he pointed at the rental car in the hotel lot. “You want to see what else is going on in this town?”

“Can we just walk?” Emma asked. Trina looked at Tom and he read her worry.

He smiled at Emma. “Lead the way.”

Hands tucked into the pockets of her red leather jacket as Emma walked slightly ahead of them. She wasn’t moving fast, but she wasn’t really looking around either, Tom realized as they passed a couple bars and a pool hall without Emma saying anything.

They reached another access drive to the beach. They could have gone to the area behind their hotel, but Emma turned down this one, walking out on the boardwalk over the dunes and sea oats down to the soft sand drifts at the top of the beach. The tide was currently out, evidenced by the long wide space between the soft, wind-divoted sand and where the water lapped the sand smooth.

Wordlessly, Trina took off her heels as they continued to walk just out of reach of the surf. In only her thin dress, Trina shivered from the Gulf breeze. Emma jerked to life. She put her own jacket around Trina’s shoulders, holding the lapels as Trina put her arms through the sleeves. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Trina gripped her forearms and Tom blocked them both a bit from the breeze as he came close to support whatever was happening. “Wanna share what’s on your mind?”

Emma looked from Tom’s blue eyes to Trina’s brown and bit her lip. “You are everything that could make me happy. Both of you. That's crazy, I know.”

Tom opened his arms and Emma leaned into his chest. Trina rubbed Emma’s back as Tom closed his arms around Emma. She breathed quietly against his chest, then her hands came up, twisting into the fabric, and his shirt slowly became soaked with tears.

Trina brushed Emma’s hair back from her face. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“I don’t know what to do,” she pleaded between her sniffing.

“Do about what?”

“I feel like I should look for him.”

Tom shared a frown with Trina. “He... you mean Neal?”

Emma shook her head. “The b...kid. I guess he’d not be a baby anymore, huh?” Fresh tears flowed.

Trina nodded, coaxing Tom to let Emma come into her arms now. “No, he’s probably entering school this fall, maybe next,” she added honestly.

“Do you think he hates me?”

“Why would he hate you?”

“For giving him up. I do. I hate my parents for leaving me. He probably hates me,” Emma shuddered against Trina’s shoulder. “I hate Neal. I hate him for what he did to me.”

“Is it just being here in Florida that brought this on?” Trina asked. “No. Wait...You saw a family out on the beach yesterday. Said that the kids were playing beach dodgeball, bounced it off your lounger.”

“The boy was just about five,” Emma admitted. “He didn’t even look much like I imagine my kid might, y’know?”

Trina nodded. “But you still started thinking about it anyway?” Tom held himself still. “Why don’t you write your son a letter?” Trina suggested; Emma paled, eyes wide. “Not to send it to him. You have no idea where he is anyway. Just…to do it. Say the things you want to, you need to. Then tuck it away.”

“How will that help?” Emma asked.

“Because then you won’t be carrying it all around inside yourself. You shared it. First, with us, then, with the universe.” Trina cupped Emma’s cheek. “Don’t you feel lighter just letting us know how yesterday’s incident made you feel?” Emma nodded. “See?”

Emma blew out a breath, gave a tremulous smile that suggested she was slowly working past her melancholy. “I’ll try.”

Tom rubbed her shoulder as Trina rubbed her back. But it wasn’t much longer before the cool night breeze off the Gulf drove them back to the hotel.

Trina held Tom back when Emma went first into their room. “What’s up?”

“Maybe we should cut the trip short, go home,” she said. “I didn’t think this would be this hard on her.”

“We only have two more days,” Tom pointed out. “Emma will tell us what she needs.”

Trina saw Emma crouch in front of the room’s television. The buzz and hum of rapidly switching stations told Trina that Emma was planning to give herself a mental diversion.

Though it was paining her to simply stand by, Trina knew Emma had her own coping mechanisms. She retrieved a paperback from the bottom of her luggage. 

Emma looked up as the bedsprings creaked and Trina was getting settled. She indicated the television. “You want me to turn it off?” 

“No, I’m good.” Trina lifted her book so Emma could see. “I’m just going to read.”

Emma nodded and went back to channel surfing. When she finally stood and settled in a chair at the table, Trina peeked at what the other woman had selected: a Three’s Company episode. She laughed at the simple physical comedy moment onscreen, and then smiled when she heard Emma snort.

“Dork,” the blonde muttered as Jack Tripper stumbled verbally through an explanation of an innocent situation that the landlord had completely misunderstood.

Trina leaned back against the bed pillows and read her book. Her anxiety about Emma gradually loosened its hold on her chest with each sound Emma made in reaction to the sitcom.

# # #

Trina awoke the next morning and found Emma had crawled into bed with Tom. Laying on his back, Tom held Emma with a light arm wrapped around her, the hand gently resting against her hair. Trina stood up from the bed and Tom’s head shifted; he wasn’t asleep.

"Don't get up," Trina mouthed.

“Love you,” he mouthed without sound when their eyes met.

Trina pulled on her robe, walked around to Tom’s side and bent over. She barely made a sound as she mouthed, “Love you.” She kissed him.

As she stepped back Trina saw green eyes barely open, watching her and Tom. She leaned further forward, resting partially on Tom’s chest and kissed the crest of Emma’s cheek. “Love you, too,” she murmured.

Emma reached out with her hand and brushed Trina’s shoulder. “Join us?”

Eagerly complying with the request, Trina moved back to the other side of the bed. Tom’s hand moved from Emma’s hair. He slid out from beneath her and turned fully onto his side, facing Emma, and now, Trina, as she laid out on the sheets, her front pressing against Emma’s back. She could feel the mattress dipping behind and beneath her. She scooted herself forward another few inches, so her pelvis cradled against Emma’s rear. She angled forward and pressed her lips to the side of Emma’s throat as she brushed the blonde’s hair tenderly aside.

“How’s this?” she breathed in Emma’s ear.

The answering sigh would have been enough, but Trina met Tom’s smile when Emma said, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Trina whispered, then she placed another kiss on Emma’s shoulder. Resting her head on her own upraised hand and bent elbow, Trina watched Emma close her eyes. She slipped her other arm over Emma’s side and laced their fingers together against Emma’s stomach. When she moved her left leg forward, her foot rested against Tom’s calf. He smiled at her and they both closed their eyes, willing to rest a little longer with Emma between them.

# # #

When he next opened his eyes, Tom saw both Emma and Trina had slipped from the bed. He rolled onto his back as he heard the door unlatch and watched Emma entering, carrying a tray, followed by Trina.

“Hungry?” Emma asked, setting down the tray on the small table.

“I could eat,” Tom said, sitting up and rapidly waking his brain with both hands shaking his head and finger-combing his hair.

“We have a little of everything. Never let Em order when she's not eaten first,” Trina teased, popping a piece of green melon into Emma’s mouth as the blonde lifted her gaze away from pouring three coffees from a sizable carafe.

Humming appreciatively around the melon, Emma chewed and finished prepping all three coffees -- Tom’s exactly as he liked it: one sugar, no cream. She handed it to him with a smile when he sat at the table.

Trina settled into another chair, taking her cup from Emma: two creams, no sugar. Finally, even as she was putting a pastry in her mouth, Emma sat down in the third chair. The fourth chair had been put against the corner and held some of their travel baggage out of the way.

“So what are we doing today?” Tom asked.

Trina smiled and produced a deck of cards. “After breakfast is strip poker, then we’ll head to the beach for the resort’s volleyball tournament this afternoon. I entered you and Emma as a mixed pair.”

Tom looked over at Emma as he bit into an English muffin with butter and jam. “Volleyball, huh?”

“Trina said you can play?” Emma asked. "i thought it could be fun."

Tom recalled his days on the beaches in Vietnam between flights and nodded. “Hit the Deck Decker. That’s me.” Trina and Emma groaned at the nickname.

# # #

The three of them had played strip poker before, so there wasn’t any embarrassment as their tops, tanks, pajama pants, shorts, socks and underwear were discarded. A round was best two of three hands. Several rounds ended with each of them winning one game, so it took a while for even their few clothes to come off. Trina laughed and teased both Tom and Emma as she wriggled her lithe body out of each piece. Tom played up the struggle to remove his shorts from over his prominent erection.

Though she joined in the antics when removing her clothes, Emma was an intense card player. Any other time, Emma’s emotions and reactions were relatively easy to read; it made for rewarding sex. But she became stoic with cards in her hand.

Finally though, Tom was naked, removing his underwear when Emma won the final hand of the current round, breaking their 1-1 tie in her favor. Emma’s winning hand had been three tens over his two pair. Trina had folded after the discard. Emma had one sock and her underwear still on; Trina had only her underwear remaining.

“Looks like I’m out,” Tom said, standing up and showing off his nude body to appreciative looks from both Trina and Emma. “What time is it?”

Trina glanced at a wall clock. “It’s just about eleven.” She looked at Emma. "We probably should suit up. We can get in a quick dip in the water before the matches start.”

Emma pushed to her feet and Trina collected up the cards, smoothing the stack’s edges before sliding them back in the box. All three of them were quickly into swimsuits and beach sandals before heading out the door.

# # #

Trina had registered herself in the women’s singles tourney which was playing first. Tom and Emma sat, knees together on the sidelines in the sand, cheering her on. The scent of surf and suntan oil heated by the Florida sunshine created a welcome haze in Emma’s head. Through it, she focused on Trina’s compact body jumping around after the balls being served by the opponent, a muscled brunette. A grease pencil mark on the woman’s right arm identified her as competitor number 3. Trina’s number 15 was dripping away with the sweat gathering on her body from the exercise.

The decisive point came when Trina dove for a spiked ball and missed. Though coming up with a mouth full of sand. Trina’s smile was broad and triumphant. She had managed to keep up with the clearly more practiced player, Greta.

Trina good-naturedly shook Greta’s hand and congratulated her.

“More practice will give you more stamina,” Greta said.

“If I decide to join the beach volleyball pro-am circuit I’ll let you know,” Trina replied, still catching her breath. “Thanks though.”

She spun and saw Tom and Emma on their feet, clapping and cheering her name. She stumbled, smile still wide, across the sand to fall into their arms. She tried not to make it obvious, but they were definitely helping her lower gracefully rather than fall flat on her face in the sand.

Tom pressed a water bottle into her hand. Once they were all seated Emma placed a hand softly on Trina’s calf and gave a squeeze. She bit back an appreciative moan at the hint of a massage to very tired muscles.

Emma leaned over, which kept her words low and private. “You have plenty of stamina where it counts.” Trina stopped gulping the water bottle’s contents and laughed. Emma kissed her cheek.

“Massage later?” Tom asked, rubbing the lower part of her neck where it met her shoulder.

“We’re all probably going to need it. Your matches are starting up over there,” Trina said and pointed to the second volleyball area. “Better get your numbers,” she added, rubbing her fingers over her sweat-smeared one.

Emma and Tom both kissed her cheeks and walked shoulder to shoulder over to the check-in. Trina noticed their hands drifted together and apart, like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to hold hands or not. She felt a ball of warmth when they each applied the other’s number instead of having the blond heavyset woman at the table do it for them.

Trina watched the ease and comfort in their contact. For Tom it wasn’t such a revelation; he was genuinely affectionate with most people, women in particular. Trina knew for Emma, though, it was a major change in perspective. Emma Swan had spent years alone, even when in crowded foster homes. The last year -- a year! -- Emma had become slowly more. More confident, more adventurous, more calm, and open in ways that clearly left her feeling vulnerable, like the other shoe was going to drop, a steel-toed boot to kick her ass.

Trina tested her weary legs then made her way over to the sidelines of the doubles play. She saw Tom and Emma now huddled, considering strategy and studying the other competitors. Coming out of the huddle, Tom waved an arm to the registration table. As Trina reached them, Tom caught a volleyball they could warm up with.

“Hey,” he said, tossing and spinning the ball above his hands. “Jelly legs?”

“Better,” she told him.

Tom and Emma took steps back from each other. Tom tossed up the ball and positioned his arms to bounce it straight up off his forearms. The ball rotated and curved forward, moving toward Emma who bent her knees and positioned her hands over her face, recoiling with the ball and then pushing back up through it, sending it back in a controlled arc toward Tom. He turned and took aim at the ball with his hands extended to one side. His movement stopped as the ball hit his wrists, which rocketed the ball back fast at Emma’s head. She extended her arms, turned her back to the ball so it dropped over her shoulder. With a quick jerk of her arms, she sent it sailing back to Tom.

“That’s great,” Trina complimented. Tom caught the ball in his hands and walked forward.

Tom and Emma sat on a bench waiting for their match time. Trina settled on a piece of heavy driftwood someone had dragged into service as a makeshift viewing stand.

A man sat down next to her. “You did well against Greta,” he said.

“Thanks,” she responded, not really looking at him as she viewed the match in progress.

“Greta’s my wife,” he said.

Trina turned. “You’re very lucky.”

“So are you.” He indicated Tom and Emma now rising to go to the far side of the net for their first round match. “The blonde. Did you meet her here, or--”

“She’s with us,” Trina said quickly. “We...the three of us, are down for a break from Chicago’s weather.”

“My wife and I live in upstate New York. This is only our second trip like this. You all travel together a lot?”

“Tom’s an airline pilot.”

“So, you do.”

**“** A bit.” She shrugged, hoping he would subside. She looked back to the game. Tom had set up the ball and Emma was leaping forward, fist in the air, to deliver a spike over the net. Trina leaped to her feet cheering, “Emma! Em!” The ball whizzed downward past the shoulder of the male of the opposing pair, and smashed into the sand inside the pit. “Yeah!” Trina shot Emma two thumbs up when the green eyes found her while resetting for the next serve.

Tom and Emma won that match, with another set up spike, this time from Emma to Tom. The Florida sunshine had warmed the March afternoon nicely. The humidity was beginning to be noticeable though, even with the breeze off the water.

The trio nibbled at the cookies table, sharing water bottles while they awaited the winner of the next match. That winner would be their opponents for the quarter-final match. Small talk clusters around the table shifted, and the New Yorker from earlier sidled up to Tom and finally made his pitch for a swap: the three of them joining him and his wife.

“I think we’re good, thanks,” Tom said. “You and your wife have a good time.”

The man frowned but nodded and walked away. Emma, who had been talking with one of the hotel staffers monitoring the beachgoers’ needs, walked over to Tom. “I thought you came down here to play,” she said.

“We do. Tonight, though, I’m only interested in Trina and you.”

“Yeah?” Emma asked.

Tom lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb on her lips. “Yeah,” he said, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers.

Emma returned the kiss and then moved into his body, accepting his arms sliding around her back. Her own arms moved around him and she pressed her face into his bare shoulder. She was his complement in a different way than Trina, but the connection he felt to Emma was equally strong. His “big brother” feelings, which had emerged a few months ago, were definitely deeper now.

Hearing someone approach, Tom released Emma. He smiled at Trina as he put his arm around Emma’s low back. “Sized up our next opponents?” he asked her.

“As long as you’re in sync like your first match, they’ll be easy pickings,” Trina said. “They’re playing mostly solo, not setting up shots for each other. And that one” -- she pointed to the brunette of the pair wearing a neon-pink bikini -- “likes to rush the net.”

# # #

By the time the sun was setting, the matches were all over. Emma and Tom hung onto each other, stumbling up the beach behind Trina. They had lost the semi-final match, after handily trouncing Miss Hot-Pink Bikini and her partner. Stepping out of the main floor bathroom where she had changed into the shorts and top Trina had fetched from their room, Emma rubbed her stomach and complained, “I’m starving.”

“I’m not surprised,” Trina said. “You ran around the sand out there for the better part of four hours.”

“Shit,” Emma said. “Wow.”

“So…how’s burgers sound? Loaded with the works?” Tom asked, emerging from the men’s room tucking a loud pink-and-green patterned Hawaiian shirt into straight-leg jean shorts.

“Perfect,” Emma sighed dreamily; Trina backhanded her stomach playfully. “Oomph. Not perfect?” she questioned.

“One day that appetite is going to go straight to your waistline,” Trina remarked.

“But that day is not today,” Emma replied with a sizable amount of cheekiness in her tone. “Beer and beef have sustained me for years.”

“Even before one was legal, I’m sure,” Tom teased. Emma laughed. He led them into the resort’s dining space. A waiter wearing blue shorts and a white button-up greeted their approach to the desk. “Good evening.”

“Party of three,” Tom said.

“Smoking or non-smoking?” the waiter asked.

“Not tonight,” Trina said.

“Right this way,” the waiter said, leading them to a table.

# # #

Once dinner was finished, Trina reminded Tom of his promise of a massage.

"No dessert?” he asked, looking at Emma. The blonde had devoured her double-stack burger, two-thirds of a pound of beef, piled high with mushrooms, gravy, mozzarella cheese, and tomatoes. She’d skipped the onions “hoping to be kissed at some point tonight,” she had told the waitress. Emma had also cleared her plate of the scalloped potatoes, green beans, and three pieces of the complimentary warm crusty bread brought out with their drinks.

“Nothing chocolate anyway,” Emma said.

“Oh, damn,” Trina said, snapping her fingers. “And here I was going to pour chocolate all over myself for you tonight.”

Emma’s eyes widened. Then she shook her head. “You weren’t.”

Trina laughed, leaned forward and kissed Emma. “No, I wasn’t. But as much as you love food, and sex, in a year, it’s surprising we haven’t put them together.”

Emma's head tilted as she considered food...and sex.... Together. Hmm... “Syrup's too messy. Are body paints safe to taste? That could be fun.” Emma suggested. “Oh, wait, aren’t there candy underwear?”

“Oh, now look, you’ve given Emma a new kink to explore, Trin,” Tom teased.

Emma’s cheeks became pink, but it was clear, as her body wriggled and she tried to nonchalantly finish her beer in one long swig, that her mind had moved from food to sex on very pleasant images.

# # #

Tom showered quickly first, saying he was going to get ready for the massage. Emma and Trina shared their shower, warming up both minds and bodies for the activities to come. Trina used a natural sea sponge, soaked with bath oils, and kissed and scrubbed Emma’s skin until she tingled all over from the sensations.

They stepped from the shower, wrapped in the hotel’s complimentary robes. Emma stepped first into the main part of the hotel room and gasped.

Tom had apparently found candles somewhere. There were tall thin ones, squat ones, and tea candles in tiny glass globes. The air was already thick with scents of spices and flowers. With all the candles, Tom had turned off the artificial lights, so the room was bathed in the colored glows of light through thin layers of wax. He had acquired a few novelty candles among the functional. Emma spied a wax-sculpted penis, a lit wick protruded from the head and had already created a small puddle indenting the tip that was beginning to drip down one side.

Both the beds had been stripped of duvets and blankets and the white sheets had been tightly tucked on all sides. The pillows had been arranged to create cradles for their heads. Tom stood up from the chair positioned between the two beds. He wore only silk boxers. On the table between the two beds lay a small collection of bottles and ointment jars.

Holding out his hands, Tom greeted, “Welcome to Decker’s Traveling Massage Parlor, ladies. May I take your robes?”

Trina moved forward first, and Emma watched Tom sensuously pull off his wife’s robe, revealing and kissing a shoulder at a time. He lightly teased her nipples with his mustached lips and sank slowly to his knees, kisses and nips down her belly. She clutched his head and tossed her own back with a desire-filled exhale as his lips moved lower still.

The evening, however, was only beginning. Instead of indulging in a thorough and intimate tonguing, Tom leaned back, stood up and kissed Trina then gestured toward the beds. While Trina stretched out on one on her stomach, Tom turned to Emma. “Your turn.”

He appreciatively watched as the robe Emma wore slid from her shoulders and pooled on the floor. When he opened his arms, she stepped forward and accepted his hug. He kissed her hair and stroked her back.

"Pick your scent," he said, gesturing to the bedside table's collection.

Emma lifted up a bottle labeled Zen and waved it briefly under her nose before giving it to him. "This one."

He pressed a dot of it onto the tip of his finger and then spread the oil on the arch of Emma's collarbone. "Good choice," he said, sniffing openly as the scent mingled with Emma's own natural one. The exploration of her began there. His lips skimmed, and raised goosebumps, on Emma's breasts. He pressed them together and lifted them to receive his attentions. Her hands flexed and then she gave in to the need to grasp his hair, silently asking him to continue.

He turned and pressed Emma down to the bed on her back. He explored the now familiar and still enticing curve and plain of Emma's ribs and firm abdominal muscles. Both Trina and Emma were fit, but he likened Emma's body to a golden, female Adonis. Leaving her for now with a parting kiss to the inside curve of her hip, he straightened up, He poured a tiny pool of the massage oil into his cupped left palm, then warmed it with a rub of his hands.

He gently lifted her chin in both hands, kissing her lips and at the same time, slickly stroking the tendons and muscles under her jaw and down her throat. She hummed into his kiss, conveying her pleasure. Lifting his head, he worked down along Emma's shoulders, arms and the tensions in her hands. When he turned his head, he saw Trina watching them, chin propped on her forearm. She was smiling, content to watch him.

He realized, as he continued Emma's massage, that he and Trina may have begun the year as swingers, Emma a casual third in their bed. But there had been a transformation, a deepening of all the interactions between the three of them. He had no idea what it meant yet.

But, as he felt Emma surge into his hands massaging alongside her breasts, he knew he wanted to keep them...this...the three of them, together for as far into the future as possible. 

# # #

 


End file.
